Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, I'm just using the characters for my own use. Dance, my puppets, dance!

"talking"
'thought'
(Author note)

Dance Partners

Heartache

Some how I made it back home safely. I wonder what brought me home. I don't even bother to capsule the car, I just go inside the house and go to my room and dwell on what happened today.

No one's here yet. Bra won't be back until 4 because of school. Parents not until around 6.

I get to my room and just look at myself. I'm a mess. I'm all red, I have red streaks down my cheeks, my eyes are puffy, and my vision is still blurry. How did I make it home safely? I should've gotten into a car crash or something.

I slam my fist against the drawer that's in front of me, with my head hung low. Why did it have to be her? Anyone but her? After what she did to us? Especially you? Why get with her again? She left you with the kid to raise by yourself, so why take her back? WHY? Why her?

I hate crying, it's so tiring. I just wish I could make myself stop, it just hurts way to much. It just feels like someone split me open rubbed salt and lemon juice into the big gash just for the hell of it, just to see how much I would cry. I just want it to stop. Just. Make. It. Stop. Please. No more. I've been hurting all my life especially my heart, it's been hurting since kindergarten and it won't stop. I don't think it ever will, even when something good happens. It will never get better.

I walk towards the closet, open it, and search thru tons of cloths on the floor. Then I find it, a small box. It's made of bamboo, really beautiful. It was a gift from Fran from when she came back from the Philippines a few years back. The cover had a little hut on the beach carved into it. I love it. I only keep one thing in it, that's why I hide it. I've only used it once before but know I feel like using it even more. I open the box and in it a beautiful ebony dagger, also from the Philippines, Fran didn't give it to me, I got it for myself when I was in the Philippines, I was there for a dance competition but anyways when I first saw it I had to have it. The handle completely made of silver, is in the shape of a dragon, the blade is ebony. Silver and black 2 of my favorite colors. The dagger, gorgeous.

I had only used it once, when I was younger. When my father made this statement "I don't even know how you even passed the first grade!" When I heard that I just wanted to die. I was only 10 years old, I think or was I younger, I don't know. When he left my room, I just stared at where he stood and waited a few minutes, took the knife out of the drawer. I had never really intended to use it like this, it was just something pretty I wanted. But after that statement I just had to, I needed to. It was calling for me. I looked at the blade and it begged me to do it and I did, I slit my arm, over and over and over again, then my other arm was next. I was TEN years old and I did this to myself. I never got caught, I don't think they even cared.

I didn't slit my wrist because I guess I didn't want to die, maybe I thought it would only get better, boy was I ever wrong. I've always thought about committing suicide, ton's of times. I doubt there's a person out in the world who hasn't thought about committing suicide at least once in there life. If there is, then I make up for all of them, thinking about it since you were in Kindergarten, isn't normal. Why since Kindergarten, is a whole other story. That would take to long to explain, very, very, very long! I really want to know, who was this young when they wanted to commit suicide? (really, who was this young? I want to know)

I took off my knee length black jacket and set it on my bed. I had a black tank top on, I looked at my arms, it had been 7 years since I've done this, they're faint but you still can see the scars. Sad, I was 10 years old. I was only 10! Damn it! TEN!

People think people cut themselves to forget about the pain that they are feeling at that moment but it's not, it really just adds on, that's all it does, it just adds on more pain. It doesn't make you feel better, worse, nothing. It just…it's really hard to explain.

I start crying again, the pain, the hurt. The fact that I was only 10 years old when I started this, everything. Trunks and her making out. Marron! Of all people, Marron! I know a lot of people would think this was stupid, cutting myself over a boy but it's not just that, it's Marron. All the pain she's caused me over the years. She slept with my boyfriend, dumped a kid on Trunks shoulders, and she didn't even act like she cared, like she actually loved doing it!

I grab the dagger and slammed it hard into the drawer. I wouldn't do it, I couldn't do it, not over him, not over anyone else, not over anything. I won't do it anymore, I made a promise to myself not to do it anymore since that day. Instead, I just punched the wall, making a huge hole in the wall.

I pulled my fist out of the wall and grabbed the dagger off the drawer. I leaned against the wall and slid down, dagger in hand. I was tired, hurt, and broken. And there was nothing I could do about it.

I just twirled the dagger, noticing how it shined in the light, how beautiful it looked, that I never noticed the door to my room slowly opening.