The Downfall of a Heartless Man
Chapter 13
Utter chaos...anticipation...fear.
With eyes closed, I stare into the infinite darkness of my eyelids. I know that outside of my own void, painful screams shriek unhindered through the air. But inside my mind, there is nothing but silence. Everything plays in slow motion; I can see but I can't hear.
Nothing but the cold, surreal realization that my son is only minutes from making his way into this world manages to scrape its way into my conscious mind. I am alone, sitting in a chair in the corner, watching my aikan give birth. I gave her this pain, this sickening pain. I am disgusted with myself, disgusted with this act of pure ludicrous. I shall truly hate this child. I will hate the way he isolates me into this chair, alone, looking foolish as a damn child myself. I will hate his human blood, his human skin. I will hate him.
And then he his born.
With one last earth shattering scream, one last carnal push, he is born. Suddenly, the world outside me becomes alive again, and I hear the voice of my son, screaming with the passion of a true Saiyan. I catch a glimpse of his tiny blood stained hand, his small fingers grasping the unfamiliar air.
My child...my son...Too many people crowd, I cannot see his face. But I don't have to look at him. Something inside me wells up to the surface, causing my breath to go ragged and my mind to go blurry. By Kami, this can't be happening...not again...not again. I can't...I can't...but I do.
No, no I refuse to believe it. I won't lose myself to emotions for anyone else, not even my son. He doesn't need love. He needs strength, guidance, discipline, and above all else, emotional reserve. He needs to be able to do what he has to do without letting weak emotions, such as love and mercy, get in the way. He will be a warrior, a true Saiyan unmarred by frivolous feelings.
It is the way things should be, they way things have to be. His will be a life of hardship, of fighting. I know this without doubt. He won't have time or need for love. Not from me. Not me. Surely, not me.
Will he?
Or am I being foolish? Am I so afraid to be rejected by my son that I won't even give him the opportunity, the chance to have a real father? Perhaps love is the most important thing he needs. Yes, there is a hard future ahead for my son...and he will be a fighter, a warrior. He will win and he will lose. He will have strength, guidance, discipline...but the one thing that will give him hope to go on, is love. After all, What does a man have to fight for if he loves nothing?
Ah, but these are pretty words from a vulgar mind. If I ever spoke them, they would lose all meaning, all purpose. Such things are not meant to be said, not by me.
So I will keep these words inside, never to break free from their prison inside my heart, where I keep all things that can never be said, only done.
It is May third. Six months have passed to the day my son was born. The child squeals and plays in the sharp green grass outside the Capsule Corps. house. My aikan laughs and giggles along with him, tickling his fat baby legs and every once in a while, giving him a kiss on his plump cheeks. "Twunkie wunkies, you are beautiful aren't you? Yes you are! Daddy waddy thinks you have a funny name but , you don't think so do you? " my aikan says in that stupid childish talk. My son doesn't need to hear that blathering. He is far too smart for that. I intend to say something to her about it, but not now. They are happy, so happy.
But happiness is a feeling I cannot afford. An ill wind blows through the air, and the sun shines almost bitterly in a heavy blue sky that is weighed down by what I know is to come. Darkness, despair...all too soon. All happiness is to be shattered...but I am ready. I have trained, I have worked...and I am ready to fight for what I believe in, what I love.
I smile darkly when I sense Kakkarot's ki coming closely. He knows. He knows what is to come. He lands softly on the ground by the pool, his normally goofy smile not present. His eyes are narrowed in seriousness and his shoulders bunched in tense anticipation. I imagine, I look the same.
I almost want to laugh, laugh at the way things have turned out. Kakkarot and I fighting together to save this dirtball, this sad excuse for a planet. We meet together, him standing about two feet from me, a glint of understanding in his eyes. He gives a small smile that is mixed with deserved fear and anxiety, but also with hope. Then, as silently and swiftly as he came, he is gone, a mere speck against the outline of the troubled horizon. He has gone to tell the others, tell them what their human instincts cannot yet perceive.
Nine more days. They are coming.
An: I have decided to end this story here. Vegeta's soul is not fully healed, not fully to the point of true redemption, and I don't believe it will be until the moment he sacrifices himself in the Buu saga. But there is an obvious change of his perception of people and life, and I hope I made that clear. In the beginning of my story, I tried to make everything Vegeta thought a tumultuous, confusing crash of emotions that was overbearing and unclear. At the end, I hope I was able to make him seem, somehow lifted of most of that confusion, that crazy whirl wind of indecision and pain. My writing has grown so much since the beginning of this story, and I honestly think I too have a better perception of people and life. Thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed and read my story, for you have given me the strength to continue when I thought I could not. Anyways, I'm going to end this now before I get too dramatic. lol. Thank you ,again, for everything and I hope to see you all again soon when I begin my next story. I don't really know what that is...but anywho, I love you all and for old times sake, DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! Sorry that was so long. lol. -melissa