Despair.
Hollow eyes.
Darkness.
Void.
Despair has a very potential destructive force within itself. Against the person itself or against the others. It’s a matter of choice who is going to be destroyed.
Despair can eat one alive. Nibble after nibble, lick after lick, bite after bite.
When despair overtakes completely, when one can feel death breathing on his neck, there is no will left to change anything, there hardly is any strength left to fight. There is only a wish to finish everything, to end the torture and get some rest. Just give in.
Just give in.
Just give in, end it all and forget. You can do it. End it all. End.
XXX
Vegeta was standing in a cold bathroom and leaning over a sink.
Red-hot droplets were falling down, meeting the sink’s white surface and splashing into big uneven blurs. The crimson mixed with the transparent running water. It was a nice, bright and shining color.
No use.
No point.
No need.
Nothing left.Damn. Damn them all. Damn those who did that, and damn those who let that happen.
Vegeta raised his head to the stained mirror that was hanging over the sink.
And damn you too, he thought, looking at the mirror.
You let that happen too. You could have changed that but you didn’t. Now it’s too late. Everything is gone. There is nothing left.Nightmare.
Reality.
When a nightmare becomes reality or reality becomes a nightmare… Yeah…
Vegeta had problems with keeping his eyes open. The only reminder of reality was the red, hot and salty liquid of life running from his nose. Bloodied reality.
Bloody reality.
Bad time. Bad luck. Bad fate. Bad destiny. Bad whatever.
Just a year more. Simply one year and everything would have been different. Just one year…hopefully.
How’d his father let it happen? How’d the Gods let it happen? To destroy a planet in a flash… Bang and it’s gone. Was that too quick even for Gods? Heh. The Saiyan race probably chose not that side. The prayers didn’t make any difference for them. However Gods of Ice-jins were very generous. Damn, maybe borrowing some Gods from them would have helped…
Vegeta smiled.
Not funny at all. Damn Gods. Damn.
Vegeta brushed over his forehead and shook his head, trying to stop useless raving. This time Frieza must have hit him several times too hard. Must be, because now Vegeta was seeing his father engulfed in flames.
At least he burned with his people. And he, Vegeta, the Prince, was standing here in some stinky cold bathroom, hell leaning, hardly standing, looking at the stupid mirror and watching a pathetic guilt movie. Whoever the producer was – the film sucked. Damn. Not good. Yeah, and he, the Prince of current nobody, was beaten into a pulp by a pink lizard after he tried to avenge his people. Damn. Only a year and it might have been different – he could have been the Legendary. Heh, the Legendary – grannies tales, but it would have taken a year, a bit more or less, to reach the so needed power and kill Frieza and all his refrigerator family.
Pathetic. These tears were pathetic. Yadda, yadda, despair, yadda, yadda, quilt, loneliness, death. So what? He wanted to die. Heh. Not so easy. Yes, he wanted, but no, he couldn’t. It would be wrong. It would be selfish. Well, the ‘selfishness and wrong’ part wasn’t anything new, but he needed to do more than to simply die.
Pathetic. He, the Prince of All Saiyans needed to kill the bastard, to avenge his people, and there he was – sitting on the floor, crying like a damn baby without any pride. Where was that, his pride, now? Where was it, the only thing that never let him give up and helped to become stronger each day? Was it because of shock and depression? Pah, who cares for the reason? Hmm…must be shock. Everyone would be a little upset finding out that the same pink bastard, whom he had to serve, has just killed all his kind and his father. The same pink bastard who used him each day as a boxing puppet and personal amusement. Yeah, and if that still wasn’t enough, there was a blue guy with a braid who’s hunting his ass.
Damn. Life sucks. Reality sucks. Gods suck. Time sucks. Even death sucks.
Vegeta closed his eyes.
Some day his time would come…his or Frieza’s.
THE END
