Hope was gone. Bulma knew she had nothing left inside of her more than she could give. The agonizing pain of loneliness had vaporized her once strong will to survive. Bulma lay in her bed at night, alone, for the past year, among the hollows of the Capsule Corporation. Vegeta had just left one night, with the promise of returning to her, and had not since yet. Mirai no Trunks had gone back to his future timeline, as she there had ailing heath.

Bulma sometimes wondered what purpose did she have in this world where no one was near. Her mother and father had been killed in a plane accident on their way to Maui. Her own baby Trunks had been with them then, as well. She was glad of the alternate future Trunks had survived in his own timeline. Obviously Vegeta didn't want to come back, or he would have returned to her knowing what she contemplated in her darkest hours.

Bulma slowly rose from her bed, to an upright sitting position. Those aqua marine locks of hair flow down past her hips, as she forced herself to her feet. What am I doing, what am I thinking? I have life ahead of me. I...I.. Her thoughts were interrupted by the flutter of her final goodbye note rolling across the floor of her room. She leaned over as far as she could, unable to reach the renegade letter. With a somewhat muffled sigh of frustration Bulma raised herself back up, taking a step forward toward the letter. As Bulma reached down to recover the letter, a painful recollection of her parents flight being all over the news. 'With no survivors'. An agonized choke escaped her now. The floor was becoming blurry as she grasped the note in her hand. It was then, that she collapsed to the floor. Streams flowing down from those deep blue spheres. The world seemed so alone to her. No one was left but her, and Chichi; even she had been missing for some amount of months. Bulma knew they were all somewhere out there, they just didn't want anything to do with her that's why all of this was happening.

No one loves me
Nobody truly cares
They said they would
But when I look, they're not there

Bulma sat now curled inside her bathroom, in a worthless bundle of herself. She looked down at the tiled floor, then to the blade in her hand. She clutched it as she did to life it's very self. Why life? Why was she around anymore, if no one else were to be? It made no sense to Bulma, and so, she decided to end the pain for herself. She was ready to put a stop to the endless nights of crying herself to sleep, alone beneath the covers. She sighed deeply to herself, bringing the blade close to her skin. She reminisced over the happy moments of her life. Nights with Vegeta, which she had felt so safe and so loved at night with her Saiya-jin prince. She recalled her own baby Trunks, every time he smiled, he belched, she remembered. She smiled thinking about her parents, who she would soon see. She thought about ChiChi, whom had been missing for months on end. The past happiness would be again, once Bulma had completed the task at hand. She planned to slit the most precious vein, not across the wrist, but up it. She planned to spill her own blood with the silvery blade clasped within her grip. A gentle breeze churned throughout the room, as a flash enveloped the sky, followed by a loud 'boom'. Bulma sighed, now leaning against the interior wall, gazing out the door she had left ajar. The wind now kissing it, the door, pushing it farther out, as she sat there. Bulma slid her hand to the rail beside her, and heaved herself to her feet. She smiled into the night sky, as she took a step to the balcony. I'll see you soon mom, dad, Trunks. I can't wait to be with you again. Trunks, mommy's sorry she hasn't been there for you but she will be there soon, Hun, I promise you that much, I'll be with you forever and ever very soon.

With those final thoughts, Bulma raised her arm to the air slowly. She put the cold steel to her arm. A shudder involuntarily slipped up her spine. Bulma knew she had to do this, for her parents, for Trunks, those who really loved her, the only ones who understood, the only ones left. She realized all of this was for the greater good. She realized this was all right, this obviously was meant to be.

As she bent down, pressing the razor to her milky skin, a breeze past her by, sending yet another UN-willed chill dancing about Bulma's spine. She drew in what would be her last breath slowly; she releashed her life's last hopeless breath. Sliding the razor up her arm, along her vein, Bulma's eyes widened. The cut burned so deeply now, the pain seemingly real throughout her; she dropped the blade off the balcony. She gasped as she realized someone was in the room with her. She had not a clue who it was, or what. Things seemed to swirl around her thoughts like flies swarmed about during a hot summer day. Blood poured all around her, as she lay in it, collapsed, emotionally and physically drained. Agonizing, burning, searing throughout everything. The thunders of the footsteps growing louder were pulling her into the darkness. The boot stopped before her, it was the last thing she had seen before plummeting into the seemly bitter, endless darkness