Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The past is better forgotten ❯ Son Goku ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

~*~*~ Chapter 2 ~*~*~

I defiantly think my writing style has drastically improved since my last story. I hope the last chapter made sense, I was trying to write it while the TV was distracting me.

I got eight reviews for chapter 1, That's the most I've actually gotten for a first chapter. (I feel so loved)

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Dr Briefs looked down at his daughter, she had grown up so much. The last time he had seen her she had only been a little four year old. Now she was twenty years older and pregnant. He looked to his wife that was sitting beside him, she was as shocked as he was.

"Where could she have been for twenty years?" she asked. For the last few hours she had been able to do nothing but stare at her. Never taking her eyes away in fear that when she looked back, she'd be gone.

He shook his head "I have absolutely no idea what so ever," he replied.

His wife smiled. "At least something good came out of hitting her."

He nodded. Thankfully no one was going to sue him since he hit his own daughter. But that only made him feel guiltier. Fist he loses her, and now he hit her with his car. Can anyone top that sort of child abuse.

He got up and walked over to her. He stood examining every detail of her face. There was no mistake, this was Bulma.

He ran his fingers through her hair, he was glade to have finally found her. A million dollars into paying people to look, and he hits her with his car, can it be any more ironic. He brushed a hair out of her face, and walked back over to his wife.

All the media had found out about this. It would be weeks before they could finally be left alone. TV cameras and reporters had been all over their front lawn since this morning. Dr Briefs and his wife had been seeking salvation in the hospital, waiting for her to wake up.

They both sat staring at her in utter silence, they had nothing else to say.

Bulma's eyes slowly opened. She stared up at the plaster ceiling, and the fan that rotated in the middle of the room. "Were am I?" she asked. She looked over at her parents, her face was full of confusion. "Who are you?"

He parents stared at her, as if it were a shock to finally hear her voice once more. "Bulma we're you parents," said her father.

"My parents?"

Her mother nodded. "Are you ok Bulma?" there was a heavy tone of worry in her voice.

Bulma held her hand up to her head. "I have this really splitting head ache," she commented. "What happened?"

Her father looked down at his feet. As if he was unable to look at her face, and the scratches than ran along it. "I hit you with my car," he murmured

"Bulma are you sure you don't remember anything?" asked her mother. She felt as if she would die without knowing.

Bulma shook her head. "No, my head just feels blank.... as if there's some huge black void."

"Anything? Like the fact your pregnant?"

Bulma blinked in shock. "I'm pregnant."

Her mother nodded.

Bulma ran her had along her stomach, it was still almost flat as if she hadn't been pregnant for long. "How'd I get pregnant?"

Her mother shook her head. "We don't know, we haven't seen you in twenty years."

"Twenty years," whispered Bulma. She had a tone of astonishment. "How could I be gone for that long?"

Her father continued to stare at his feet. "You've been missing since you were four."

"God," swore Bulma.

Her mother got out of her chair and walked to her bed. She placed her hand on Bulma forehead. "Get some sleep dear, you need to rest."

Bulma obediently closed her eyes and slowly fell back asleep.

* * *

Bulma stared up at the large building that lay in front of her, Capsule Corporation. The sun gleamed off the many glass windows. She had to admit it was huge, one of the biggest buildings she had seen so far. This was the home she lived in twenty years ago. It did seam slightly familiar. Like a long forgotten distant memory, that had been lost within the depths of her mind.

Her father stood next to her. If she actually had any bags or valuables he would have carried them for her. "I'll show you to your room," he began walking towards the house.

Bulma paused and took one last look at the building before following him. She was smart enough to tell by just the look of their home that they were very rich.

He lead her into the house and up a flight of stares. Bulma paid close attention to the house, almost trying to memorise it. He walked down the hall, to a bedroom on their right. Bulma walked inside.

You could tell by first impressions that it was the bedroom of a little girl. The walls were painted a pale pink, and an assortment of dolls and stuffed animals lay on a small bed.

Her father looked down at his feet. "Your mother will probably take you shopping today knowing her. I think you've grown out of all the clothes and toys here. We never had the heart to get rid of them," he turned and left the room.

Bulma walked over and sat on the bed. She picked up a stuffed bear, and brushed away the layer of dust that covered it. So this was her room, her father was probably right, it didn't look like it changed much in the last twenty years.

She examined the row of stuffed toys. Maybe she could keep some of this stuff for her baby when it was born. She had no idea who the child's father was, she didn't care. It was if deep down she didn't want to remember.

Bulma got up and opened the wardrobe. A row of small girls clothes looked back. She examined a pink dress. Did she really used to wear those clothes. Twenty years seemed like a long time when she couldn't remember.

Bulma slowly shut the wardrobe, and moved on to a cluster of photos sitting on her dressing table. They were all of her. She picked one up and took a closer look. She must have been a happy child, in every photo she was smiling.

It was freaky, she was looking at photos of herself, and yet she could never remember posing for them. It was if she, and the person in the picture were two completely different people.

Bulma preyed that she'd be able to see her child grow up. That she'd be there for their every birthday. She could see now that it must have been very hard for her parents, they never got to see her grow up. To them she went from the little child in the picture, to a full grown women. They missed out on nearly all her life. Not just them, her as well.

For all she knew she could have been anything from a prostitute, to a kindergarten teacher. She could have been with a man she loved, or she could have been raped. There were too many unanswered questions in her life. And to be honest she didn't want to know the answers. She felt as if she was better off not knowing.

She lay the picture back on the dressing table. Deep down inside she knew she was going to like living here. It just had these feeling that called out home.

"Bulma!" called her father from down stairs.

Bulma took one last look at the photos, then walked down stairs to where she heard her fathers voice.

As she entered the kitchen she noticed a tall black haired man sitting at the table. Scoffing down what ever food her mother brought him. Her father was sitting next to him.

"Bulma, I want you to meet Son Goku," said her father.

Bulma took a seat next to her father. "Hello."

Goku looked up from his food. "Hi," he said with his mouth full of food.

Dr Briefs looked back at Goku. "Goku this is my daughter Bulma," he said it with a slight tone of happiness.

Goku paused and looked at Bulma. For as long as he had know the Briefs, he had know how upset they were over the loss of their daughter. He was surprised to finally meet her.

Bulma smiled, she could tell from Goku's eyes that he was a good person. "So, how do you two know each other?" she asked.

Dr Briefs took of his glasses and wiped them with a cloth. "It's a long story actually, Now where should I begin.. About a few years ago I found an odd looking ball in the basement. I had no idea what it was, so out of curiosity I researched it. I eventually found out that there were in fact seven, and they were called Dragonballs. I hired a team to study it, and they found out a way of making a radar to find the other six. Since I was on holiday and I was bored stiff, I went and looked for them myself. While looking I ran into Goku here. Since he refused to give up his Dragonball, I gave him the radar and allowed him to go off and look for the rest himself. Two months later he came back with all seven."

"And where are they now?" asked Bulma.

He put his glasses back on. "I keep them in a box in the basement. Their actually quit annoying, when their all together they flash like crazy," replied her father.

"How come?" asked Bulma. "Do they do something?"

Her father paused. "I have absolutely no idea, I only collected them because I was bored."

"Do you know Goku?" she refused to believe that they didn't have some purpose.

Goku scratched his head. "Nuh, how should I know." He finished the food on his plate. "So Bulma where have you been for twenty years.

Bulma looked down at the table. "I don't remember."

"That's too bad," he looked up at the clock. "I better get going or my wife's gonna kill me." He got up. "Thanks for the food Mrs Briefs."

Bulma's mother smiled. "It's always a pleasure having you here Goku."

Dr Briefs got up out of his chair. "I'll see you out," he walked out towards the front door with Goku.

Bulma got up out of her chair too and followed behind.

When they got out on the front lawn Bulma expected to see his car or anything, but there was nothing parked. She assumed he must have walked.

"Thanks again Dr Briefs," he waved then took flight.

Bulma watched as he flew through the sky and out of sight. She expected that she would have been surprised at seeing something like this, but she wasn't. It was as if fly was nothing new, and she had seen it all before.

Her father turned to see no surprised reaction on his daughters face. He narrowed his eyes, where exactly had his daughter been for twenty years.

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I have figured out that when I have the will to write a chapter, I can write it in a few hours. When I don't it can take a week.

I have my entire story planned. It is going to be interesting. They next wonderful, fantastic, addictive, chapter shall be up sooner or later.

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Missq