Skeletons: Chapter 4

“Sweetheart.” Bulma sang as Trunks entered the large kitchen of capsule corp, “Why don’t you come outside and enjoy the sun?”

Trunks shrugged, swung open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of chilled water.

“Oh come on, you are as white as a ghost. You need the sun.”

Again Trunks shrugged. Bulma sighed and returned to the back yard. His mother obviously was waiting until the last minute to catch her flight; the damn thing was in four hours and she was outside sun worshipping. The demi saiyan exited the kitchen into the long hallway.

As he strolled towards his wing of the building, his litre of water securely in one hand, he gazed upon the pictures lining the walls. They were mostly of him or Bura as a child, occasionally there were some of his mother and father but most of those were kept in the living room or in their wing. He wondered where his mother had gotten her taste for home decorating, it certainly wasn’t from his grandmother; her idea of decoration was somewhat ‘old fashioned’.

He slowly ascended the stairs, strode to his wing of the house and crept inside. He locked the door behind him. His wing consisted of a living area with a kind of kitchen thing, two large back recliner sofas and a television. All of which he had purchased himself after taking a job in the local sports centre. There were two bedrooms, each furnished with a double bed, chest of drawers, closet and nightstand and there was also a small study room which Trunks used for homework and other such things. Leading off from the living area was a rather large bathroom and at the door there was an area for jackets, shoes and various other items. It was like a small apartment and there were three others in Capsule corp as well. The wing had been given to Trunks of his 15th birthday, not only as a gift but also because his mother felt he could use his own space.

Trunks lifted a large cushion from the couch and went to lie down on the veranda. He curled up on one of the plastic outdoor chairs, positioned the cushion behind his head and nodded of into sleep.

6. . 11pm.

I slept from noon until 6pm today. The fresh air on the veranda seems to help me chill out and it meant I could just avoid humanity for a while.

So I have been thinking about what I wrote this morning, how I told you what happened. It’s been playing on my mind all day, like a song on repeat. Other stuff has been as well, like what happened after that and all those stupid mistakes I made. Fuck it though. I could write about the past all damned night and it wouldn’t change a thing. There’s no point in keeping it locked up anymore, that’s the whole point of a journal. Right?

I should mention that I changed, seriously changed, but I wasn’t a mute at this stage. All through that year of school those bastards continued to abuse me, I just couldn’t stop it, and they kept weakening me. First it was just one, and then it grew to two and then three ki limiters. I was powerless and the damage has stayed with me. Physically and Mentally. Anyway, I met this girl a year later. She was so sweet and amazing, she really understood me. I could talk to her and she could talk to me. She was being abused at home and because of it she was very shy around strangers. But you could tell she felt safe with me. We dated until I was 15. Then we broke up. I felt it just wasn’t working and at this stage I was already going crazy. So, she swallowed a tub of sleeping pills, followed by a bottle of vodka. Apparently I was the only thing keeping her here.

But she didn’t die the first time. After she was rushed to hospital they threw her into a rest home, not unlike the one from ‘Girl interrupted’. That’s when she died. I went to visit her and we talked for a while. She cried, and cried. She told me how her Dad beat her senseless for being so stupid, how the people here treated you like a crazy person, how no one liked her and how broken she was. And she was right. She was broken. I told her I would be there for her, that I still loved her and that I was sorry I broke it off. But I just wasn’t in the place for a relationship. That night, after lights out, she escaped to the roof and jumped. God knows how she got up there, but Kami, she found a way.

I haven’t spoken ever since I found out. She was the only person I ever confided in. The only girl I ever loved and I ruined her. I killed her. I’m a fucking monster.

Trunks set down the pen on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and pulled his knees to his chest. His heart ached, he heaved as he tried to breathe through the weight on his chest. He just couldn’t push it away. It was heavier than him, crushing his lungs and burrowing right into his bones.

He was unfeeling. With one last desperate attempt to salvage himself he eagerly reached for his wallet and slipped a straight edge razor from its depth. He clenched his teeth, flexed the muscles in his forearm and slashed the razor’s edge across his skin. It burrowed deep into the flesh, the crimson liquid bubbled ,slid down the remainder of his arm and dripped from between his fingers. Blood pooled on the coffee table surface. He sighed with relief and went to work on the other arm. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. The feeling was infinite.

Finally he ceased and gazed at his master piece. It was more than he had ever done and the blood had even dripped onto his journal. He cursed to himself, crossed the kitchen and took the roll of tissue paper to clean up the battle field he had created. His flesh throbbed with a dull pain as he scrubbed at the surface of table; he lifted his journal and tucked it under his arm. The table was clean now, but slightly discoloured.

“Trunks?!” There was a strong knock on the door, and suddenly Trunks realised that his stereo was rather loud.

“Boy! Open this damn door!”

It was his father.

Panicking, he dashed to his bedroom and fumbled through the drawers for a long sleeved shirt. He had no time to wipe away the excess liquid. His father hammered and hammered at the door.

“Dammit! Boy open the fucking door!”

Fuck. The blood was staining through. His heart pounded as he searched for a jacket. He heard his father kick open the door.

Quickly he took hold of his jacket and swung it over his shoulders just as his father entered the bedroom.

“Are you deaf?”

Trunks shook his head. He pointed to the bed, indicating that he was asleep. Vegeta growled and narrowed his eyes. His nose twitched. The silence was killing Trunks. Could his father smell the blood? Was it showing through the jacket? Shit.

“Boy,” His father finally snapped, “Just turn the fucking racket down.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed from the wing back to his marital bed.