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CC: Dragonball
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Addicted to Death: Chapter 2
Simple.
Staring into nothing, darkness and a void. Crimson surrounding Bulma, numb and cold. Such a simple slice, a simple razor caused such calamity. Strewn puddles of burnt out red, thickening pools entrapped a now limp body. Cascading aqua laced through the puddles, mocking happiness, a smile left on her face. This scene lay before the one kneeling before her body. Parted duos, narrowed jaded eyes; tear stained cheeks masked by strands of midnight cast. It was a cold sight, after seeing his mother of the future die, Trunks, now kneeling before his mother of this time's unmoving body, crippled by fear, gaping in horror. The breeze outside was cool; the scent of deaths approaching wings claimed the sky, life drifting away. Suicide was such a poor solution to a temporary problem. Trunks could never picture his mother resorting to this, not even if she had nothing left but herself and her thoughts. She was too strong for something like this, he knew. So how did this happen? Silence gripped him as time slipped away slowly, failing to realize this; he became lost in thoughts of self-worthlessness.
"Mother gave up because of me. No one wanted to tell me what a mistake I was, so they tried to hide it. They tried to get away from me, but they couldn't. I always thought I didn't pay enough attention. I must have made her do this; I made her give up. I smothered her and I wrecked her dreams. I sent father away, I made him hate us, I was a big mistake, and I ruined everyone's lives, thinking of bettering my own."
Chill bumps, the dreaded goose flesh met Trunks' skin, as he still remained knelt by Bulma's side. She wasn't dead, but then again, she wasn't far from it. Crimson soaked floor, a son, and a dying mother. Trunks' mind raced, as he didn't know what to do, he felt the presence of death reaching ever so closer, clawing out, reaching for his mother, straining. He craned his head slightly, long strands hanging over on the opposite shoulder, his eyes meeting with the darkness outside. He knew he had to do something, but was unsure. Could he get her to the hospital on time? What hope was there now, or was they're any at all? A blur of questions filled his mind, lost and deluded; he gaped at his mother again. Trunks was utterly blind to guilt, and he was slowly letting time unfold, baffled by thought. A chill of ice hit him hard in the face, frigid and irregular for the hot summer night it was. Like shock waves, chills searching for warmth, they shot down his spine in ripples, sending him back to reality, away from the blinding sea of thought. Sliding an arm about his mother's tiny head, and another to about her mid body, he lifted Bulma into his well-toned arms. He smiled bitterly, sweetness in the midst, no doubt he would get her to the hospital on time, he had to. Simple, wasn't it? And with that, he did the only thing he knew to do; he heaved his tired body into the air. As he hovered before the window, he looked back at the blood soaked floor, his eyes wide with fear. Weakness inhabited his body, as did spells of black. He fought the darkness, his mind a swirling blur.
Trunk's knew he couldn't, make it, somewhere deep in his mind, he knew he had failed his mother. He had failed everyone, once again. Hanging his head, he slowly began to shove into the air. The darkness suddenly lit up with the glow of a familiar ki. The night now seemed to be day, and fear crippling. Silence, no breathing or talking, there were just too many scars between them. That horrible night, he was reminded of a once scared child, running through the halls of the Capsule Corporation, fearing what he knew wasn't there. Trunk's swallowed hard, and before he could muster a word to his father, a strong hand came upon his neck, putting unbelievable pressure on him, enough to knock him out. The hand was cold and silencing, yet possessively familiar. Trunk's felt his mind swallowing him, as he fell coldly to the ground below, his mother's body gone from his arms, a chilly voice uttering in the background, and then silence.
You're too weak, it's just that simple.
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