Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction / Fushigi Yuugi Fan Fiction ❯ Such a Simple Descision ❯ How it began ( Prologue )

AN: I should tell you this doesn't have any of the DBZ gang in here. This is for an original character, that, well, I'm introducing right now. I would much appreciate and comments and criticism that you guys have. Thanks!




I don't know how it happened. One moment I was celebrating Christmas with my entire family, the next I'm dressed in a black dress looking at two coffins in front of me. I don't remember the car wreck very well. All I get when I try was the sound of screeching tires and the vision of bright headlights. The sad part is that both of my parents where in the car with me. My mom in the front passenger seat. My dad sitting behind me.

It wasn't anyone's fault for the accident except for the drunk driver that ran into us. I knew it wasn't my fault because I was listening to my mom for once, because I had just gotten my license and this was the first time I had driven in the snow at night. I paid attention to the road, to the oncoming cars. I even made sure I braked properly so that I can stay in control of Mom's big SUV. But it was all for nothing. As I was passing an intersection, "Big Red," the name for the SUV, got rammed on the passenger side, right were Mom was. Dad forgot to wear his seat belt and got thrown through the rear window and died at the scene. The doctors at the hospital tried their hardest to keep mom alive, but she died on the operating table. As for me, I was the only one to survive the accident. The drunk driver didn't make it as well. The only things I have to show for it were two rather distinctive scars that matched on my face. Both began at the corner of my eyes, swung a little towards the ears, and ended about a half an inch apart in front under my chin. The doctors said it is from my glasses breaking when my head hit the airbag.

A few weeks later at the funeral, all eyes of my family were on me. Like they were waiting for me to cry or for my eyes to show remorse. But I couldn't show anything. My emotions were so jumbled up, so crazy inside of me that I couldn't shed a tear. Later at the wake, my aunts would come over and try to talk to me. I would listen, but I wouldn't reply. Only storing what they said for later consideration. My two brothers and my only sister kept on pestering me for details of what happened during the wreck. Whenever they asked me about it I would get up and walk unsteadily to another part of the room, find an empty chair and sit down.

They didn't understand that it wasn't an accident. No one would believe me anyhow. No one would believe that some stranger wanted me dead because of the ring my godmother gave to me on my 18th birthday. Looking at the ring on my left middle finger, I turned it around, noticing the little details that most would pass up. The small etching that was all over. The way it seemed to taper a bit as it wrapped around my finger on each side and comes to a point just below my first knuckle. When one looked closely at it they would think that it resembled some kind of bird holding a small jewel in its beak. But I knew what kind of bird it was and strangely enough I knew what the jewel was as well. The jewel I only heard about it in some stories I used to read. I only saw the bird once in my life when I made an important decision.

Now it seems that I'm paying for that decision. Like I said, the wreck was no accident. It was devised so that I would suffer. And I was suffering for it, with the death of my parents in the wreck. From my corner in the room, I could hear my family talking very well. They were talking about me and my lack of remorse or tears. How can I cry when I don't know what to feel? Should I be angry at the guy who caused the accident, or grief stricken at the lost of my parents? How about a little bit of both? But no matter what I felt, I couldn't cry; couldn't let the tears fall down my face. So there I was moving from chair to chair to avoid the questions so that people couldn't see that I wasn't crying.

After the wake, I packed what things I knew that I would need in my new life. A life that came with the decision that caused my parents death. I sighed and looked into the mirror that hung in my bedroom one last time. I looked around the room and spotted something that I had missed. Reaching on the shelf, I pulled down a well-worn teddy bear. Remembering the day that I received it, I smiled a little and gently packed it in the smaller of my two bags. Looking around the room again, I tried to commit it to memory for my room was a glimpse to my childhood. And I knew, once I leave this room I won't be a child again and that I won't be coming back.

******
Some years later:


A girl stood there staring into the star-fill, moonless night. She searches the stars looking for something only known to her. Sighing at what she sees, the girl turned and walked into a small log cabin that she has called home for the past two years.

As she passes a mirror the girl stopped and looked at her self, thinking of the differences between who she was all those years ago and what she is now and for the rest of her life. She was wearing a practical outfit of a pair of well-worn blue jeans and a faded T-shirt. Her figure wasn't much for being slightly muscular from hard labor. The girl was tall for her gender being about 6 ft. in height. The heart-shaped face was framed by brown-blond hair that came down to her cheeks. The eyes were a mix of green and hazel and a little widespread. An almost full mouth and a slightly rounded and thin nose completed the image. Anyone who saw the girl would have called her cute and attractive except for the two scars on her face. But since she lives by herself, the girl doesn't really care.

Shaking her head at the reflection, the girl turned and looked around the small cabin, lit by a fire in the metal stove in a corner. In another corner was a wooden framed bed covered in animal furs and the like, beside it was a small stand holding an oil lamp and a picture on top. A simple oak table with two chairs flanking it stood close to the stove and a dry sink on the wall beside it. There were several opening in the walls of cabin; most of them were being covered by some wax paper. Another opening, covered with a hanging deer fur, lead to a back room.

Walking further into the room, the girl picked up an apple from a bowl on the table and ate it as she walked over to the bed. Finishing the apple and tossing the core into the fire, she curled up on the bed and fell asleep.