Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Confessions Of A Believer: II ❯ Downward Spiral ( Chapter 1 )

Three weeks passed, Shawn worked every night but Mondays and Tuesdays and Vegeta continued to 'borrow' the fourteen-star miniature dragonball to come through the mirror on the wall next to my computer into the real world from the anime one. It looked strange when he did it too, his flesh became as real as yours or mine and I could see subtle differences that aren't drawn in on the show. Also, his hair, I noticed, when he was in my world, wasn't entirely black. It had a brownish highlight to it when it caught the light, the same went for his eyes.

We almost always made love right away. Sometimes he was gentle and slow, other times he wasn't so. I learned to anticipate how he'd react by the way his eyes shifted and how he would greet me upon entering my world. If he'd had a particularly horrid week, for instance, I knew I'd be in for some rough treatment. He never really said much to me after that first night, but he didn't need to. I knew what he wanted by the look in his eyes. All this time I was ignoring the feeling of guilt that lay like a stone in my stomach.

As was true for me, that which is unpleasant I will find a way of not seeing, hearing or feeling. My world began and ended with Vegeta deep inside of me and afterwards, every time, when I came back to myself, I regretted what I had done. But, like a sinner who's not recognized her sin, I dove right back in every single time. Some would probably say I couldn't see the forest for the trees.

I wasn't afraid that he'd show up on Shawn's days off. I merely took down the mirror and carried it into the bathroom, claiming I needed to clean it off, and laid it facedown on the floor next to the dresser. I knew the bathroom cabinet mirrors were too small for his form to slip through so I did not worry about them.

I did, however, worry about the purplish-green marks, bruising left from the nights when he'd forgotten his own strength as he took me, left over upon the expanse of my body. You know the expression; "He's an animal in bed?" Well, Vegeta resembled that saying, literally! I took to wearing long-sleeved shirts again and never wore shorts, only ankle length skirts every now and then. I was lucky that no one noticed anything. I always made love to Shawn in the dark so that he wouldn't see them.

My body was often sore and aching after Vegeta left me. It was almost enough to make me rethink this twisted relationship, but then I felt the familiar heat rush to my nether regions as I recall the vertigo-causing sensations his mouth, tongue, hands and body could do to me. I close my eyes and see his own, coal-black and smoldering, looking into mine and realize that I was on a downward spiral, unable to stop my decent even if I'd wanted to.

Early Saturday evening, Shawn was getting ready for work and I was checking my email, my eyes fluttering to the mirror on the wall, Vegeta never showed up until after ten so I wasn't worried. It had been a little more than a week since I'd last seen Vegeta, I missed his touch but was thankful, for it gave my body a chance to recover from his ministrations.

I kissed Shawn goodbye, shoving the feeling that I was the worst kind of betrayer deep down inside my gut where it would roll around until I'd forgotten it was there, I hoped! After I closed and locked the door I turned and headed for the bathroom, taking a shower and washing my long, dark hair. Standing on the wet floor, a green towel wrapped about my body, I gazed at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked hollow and my hair, hanging down over my shoulders in thickly drying spirals, needed their ends trimmed, badly.

The bruising on my wrists and arms from when Vegeta had held me in place the last time we made love were starting to fade. I blinked a moment longer, my left eye starting to go up into my head as it often did when I became tired. Rubbing my hands over them, I paused when I heard a faint noise from the living room. Clover didn't even bark anymore at Vegeta when he came through the mirror. I knew I'd locked the front door.

Then, I heard knocking. Releasing the breath I'd been holding I quickly pulled on a my pajama bottoms with the green frogs all over that said; "Prince Charming" and it's matching long-sleeved top. I ran to the front door and turned the lock, pulling it open to reveal the grinning faces of my two friends, Vicky and her boyfriend Chris.

"Hey, guys!" I greeted happily, standing aside so they could enter, Chris held a game book and told me he was dropping it off for Shawn. Vicky, dressed in her jeans, Piccolo shirt and long black coat that contrasted with the paleness of her long, straight blonde hair followed Chris inside and sat on the sofa next to him.

I sat down cross-legged in the center of the sectional couch and Chris turned the playstation 2 on and put in the new Armored Core game. Vicky and I talked about the greatness that is Piccolo on Dragonball Z for a while, sharing fan-fiction ideas. I reached behind the sofa to pull my notebook foreward and ripped out the latest drawing of Piccolo and her original character, Ryven, I had drawn earlier for her.

As I reached over to hand it to her, she grabbed my wrist and turned it over. Stiffening, my heart in my throat, I pulled my hand back swiftly, but not before she'd seen the bruises. Her blue-gray eyes spoke volumes. "What happened?" She asked, as Chris turned from Armored Core to look curiously at me.

"It's not what it looks like," I said, thinking that they probably thought my ex-best friend, Mandie, who lived nearby, had beaten me up or something. Mandie is a girl I've know for a long time, she has severe mental problems and tends to be very violent and lash out at those she thinks have somehow betrayed her. She made a lot of drama for me a few months ago and now I am no longer in her life. Unfortunately, she still only lives a few blocks from me. "I haven't seen her since that last she showed up with the gun."

Vicky looked at me as if she thought I was lying, but didn't say anything. It was agonizing not being able to tell the truth! But, how do you explain to someone who's always believed that their favorite show, even though they love it dearly, has always been just that; a show. She would think I was completely nuts if I started telling her about the fourteen-star dragonball and the mirror and Vegeta.

My mind played over possible outcomes of that conversation, all of them ending with Vicky and Chris leaving to go call Shawn and have me taken up to Eastern State Psychiatric Hospital where they would try to train my mind to accept the difference between reality and fantasy. No, I thought, as I folded my arms in my lap, I couldn't risk telling her about it. I couldn't risk telling anyone.

Even if it meant never being able to tell her that her heroes are real and they're adventures go on even if she's not watching them on a screen. I felt sad when they had to leave, because I would have given my left arm to be able to tell her what was really going on and maybe find a way for her to meet Piccolo, her favorite Dragonball Z character, whom she equates to a father-figure.

After they'd left I curled up on the couch to watch TV and Clover licked my foot. "Eeew!" I said, pulling it away, "Dog tongue. Yuck!" I laughed, pushing the fear and blame down deeper still. I was just reaching over to scratch Clover's ear when I looked over and saw him flying through my mirror, landing gracefully next to my sofa. Standing with one hand on his hip, Vegeta greeted me by glaring at me.

"What?!" I asked, not as afraid of him as I used to be, since he never tried to hurt me on purpose. I hadn't stood up from my place on the sofa when he'd entered. I could tell that irritated him and he stalked over to me, eyes narrowed.

"You should get up and greet me when I visit you." He said slowly. I didn't say anything, but waited for him to finish, I knew he was about to launch into his Saiyan royal blood blah-blah-yada-yada speech once more and did my best to nod and smile and look contrite. Inside my head, however, was a whole different world. I didn't hear a word he said as I was focusing on ideas for a new Piccolo fan-fiction story.

Suddenly, I felt myself being jerked to my feet, Vegeta's fist curled around the fabric of my shirt, holding me upwards in such a way as I had no choice but to look directly into his seething features. "Stop spacing out on me, woman!"

"S-Sorry!" I choked, kicking at him with little success. He let me drop and turned around, his muscular back to me, I glared at him and stuck out my tongue, but rubbed the back of my neck where the material had cut into my skin. He turned around and grabbed me by the waist, pulling me roughly to him and I knew, from the moment he'd glared at me from across the room, that he wasn't in the mood to coddle me.

Yet, no matter how brutal his lovemaking was, he never failed to bring me to heights of soaring passions as he drove into me, making everything around me fade out like a supernova only to come back into focus brighter and with more clarity than before. Being with Vegeta, I guess, you could say, was like being under the influence of a heavy drug; You know it's bad for you, you know you shouldn't take it, you even know you will regret it later, but while it's coursing through you there is nothing but the drug and it means and is all.

My mind spun around as he thrust into me, his now familiar rhythm causing me to move with him on the living room floor, twisting and turning down mental pathways that held no exit and no entrance. I came back to myself as the ache in my breasts from his hands squeezing them too hard forced tears to cloud my vision.

I did not cry out and plead with him to be a little more gentle like I normally would have done. Usually he listens to me, but sometimes I am just so caught up in the passion myself that I fail to say anything, but bite my lip and wait for the pain to flood over into pleasure, which it did, always, towards the end if I was patient.

But not this time. I was still angry from his early treatment of me when I'd failed to greet him properly. Pompous, stuck-up, a few more words sprang to mind and I forced myself to, for the first time ever since I've met him, NOT feel pleasure at his touch, only the pain.

Then I did something that surprised even myself.

Wrapping my arms about his thick shoulders, I pulled myself downwards, disengaging himself from me as I did so and buried my teeth deeply into the sinewy muscle of his left shoulder, digging deep, savagely, with my teeth and I tasted the hot, salty blood upon my tongue, dripping down my chin, and down his back and chest. Instead of crying out in pain as I'd been expecting and hoping, he shuddered against me and I felt a sudden sticky warm wetness all over my stomach, dripping down my sides and into my pubic hair.

"Get off of me!" I cried, his blood taste still in my mouth, pushing him with all my strength, "Vegeta! Get up!" He wasn't moving and it was like being held beneath a mac truck. He braced himself on one arm and looked down at me, eyes still glazed slightly, mouth parted, chest heaving.

Blood was drying from the wound on his shoulder, one that looked like mine, only fresh instead of months healed. Instead of slapping me or doing something of that nature as I thought he would have by the way his eyes flashed, he kissed me.

Yes, kissed me! Blood and all.

The metallic taste in my mouth mingled with that of his tongue as he attacked my oral cavity with a vigor I didn't know how to combat, all the while his seed was sticking to me where he'd deposited it all over my stomach. He let go of my mouth to smirk down at me and I said; "Do you know how hard this is gonna be to wash out of the carpet?!"

He continued to smirk, "You shouldn't have bitten me."

"I can't believe you got off on that!" I said, looking at him through one eye, as I narrowed my other eye as if studying an odd creature in a science lab.

He snorted and rolled off of me so I could get up and use the bathroom.

I didn't even hear him leave as I got into the shower for the second time that day, washing myself off. My womanly place still tingled and the warm water made the skin around and inside it burn a little. Hissing between my teeth, I turned off the water, dried myself and got dressed, then I gathered up some cleaning supplies to scrub the evidence of our rendezvous off the living room carpet.

I went to bed earlier than normal that night, sleeping upstairs with my cats. If I dreamed, I didn't know for I remembered none of them once I awoke the next day. But, what jarred me awake wasn't the morning light filtering into my room through my closed blinds. No, it was the gut-wrenching twisting of my stomach that told me I needed to find a toilet fast!

Too late. Before I could even stumble from the bed I was violently sick all over the sheets. My stomach churned, it felt like I had just gotten off a tilt-a-whirl, and I heaved until my stomach was empty, not know what was wrong with me.

Gasping, I waited until I was puking up the very bottom of my stomach lining, a greenish yellow mucousy stuff, tears coursing down my cheeks as I waited for my bout of sickness to pass. Vomit on my mouth, I curled up on the bed, my breath coming in great ragged gasps. I had never been that sick in my entire life! I thought I was dying. I wanted to die.

However, as I gained control of myself, a sudden thought, jumped, unbidden to my mind. My eyes widened and I gasped. No! I thought, it's not possible! I had never even considered...he was an anime character, I was real! This was not possible! But he's real when he's in your world, I reminded myself, Stupid girl! Stupid, stupid, stupid girl!

I never kept track of my periods because my cycle was so irregular that I will go for a months without having one and then, suddenly I'll bleed like a stuck pig for a two weeks straight. So, doing the math, even if I could, wasn't going to work. I was only certain of one thing, since, by no fault of his own, my boyfriend cannot have kids, that, if I was pregnant, (and I prayed to every god I could think of that I wasn't), it was Vegeta's.

Shaking, I forced myself to get up, get dressed, clean the mess up and wash my face. I sloshed some water around in my mouth and spit it back into the bathroom sink to remove the vomit-taste, brushing my teeth and combing and braiding my hair. I secured my hairclip in the back that kept wayward tendrils from falling over my face. I still had fifty dollars left over from babysitting Dominique in my purse.

I passed Shawn asleep on the couch, (being on his feet all night often left him too tired to climb the stairs to bed so he often just crashes on the couch), as I left the house. I squinted at the bright sunlight and felt the cold air caress my hair and face as I walked the half-hour trek to Safeway.

I knew exactly what I wanted, but they keep the pregnancy tests in a transparent locked case so I had to wait for a clerk to get done with a customer so he could fetch one for me. Paying for it, I watched the bagboy slip it into a plastic bag and hand it to me. I didn't feel like smiling so I just took the bag and left the store, passing a wailing infant in a stroller as I did so. I cringed. I wanted kids, I really did. Just not like this. Not this way.