Fall Journal

October 19^th

    Dear Journal

I’d experienced so much in my short lifetime, it’s amazing how many emotions the human body can go through, and how easily one can shift to the next. In the few months I’d experience so much happiness and love, I was almost as if I’d been living in a dream world. And I’ve learned that happiness and luck have another side to their coin; it’s called tragedy.

The last week has been hectic and full of pain, some how I hope I’ll find away to ease the frustration, but I doubt it…

I supposed it started some time Sunday…

My mother’s crying brought both my little sister and I to the kitchen in a rush… I can’t recall what we were doing before that. I’d froze at finding my mom kneeling on the cold tile floor, the phone at her side and he head bowed down; her fragile frame heaving heavily with sobs.

Bura was the first to go to her, surprisingly calm as she comforted her giving me enough time to recover and help our mother to her feet then lead her to the couch in the other room.

I’d never seen my mother cry like that, it was a little bit unnerving.

She finally told us the news… Chi-Chi had passed away.

Chi-Chi had really been an extraordinary woman whom I’d always looked up to almost like a mother figure. And as much time as I’d spend at the Son house in my youth, her scolding and words of wisdom had as much effect on my upbringing as my own mothers. From her I’d learned patience… something neither one of my parents possessed. She’d always been around to fix up scratches and scrapes, or soothe me when I was frightened or upset when my own mother was too busy working to spend the time with me… in a sense it was like I’d lost a parent.

The death of a loved one brings out a deep aching in your chest… now I understand why people think that love and emotions came from the heart, because it hurt…

I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose my own mother, the one who brought me into this world and gave more love and care than I would possibly need. Mothers are such an important role in life. Children think they would always be there-

They don’t just leave, the thought seems almost impossible; mothers can’t be snatched away by death… at least before a person had time to say goodbye…

I can remember the funeral; peering over at my own mother, who had been sitting silently on a folding chair, her hands in her lip, pale blue eyes identical to mine more weary than I’d ever seen them. She had stopped crying then, listening intently to the priest who was still speaking, every now and then she’d reach up to dab at a tear. All I had down was stand there mutely letting my eyes fall back on the priest hearing his words but not really listening… words alone had no healing value if it was a stranger who was speaking them.

I remember scanning the small crowd of people for Goten, whom I hadn’t the chance to exchange words with since his mothers death… It had been longer than that, now that I think of it. It had to have been over two weeks since I had seen him before that… I guess I’d been too carried away with my work to drop in for a hello.

I doubt he’d coped with the loss too well; Goten has always been one of the most caring people I'd ever met, his cheerful ways and overly compassionate nature could only be matched by his father’s. I’d only caught a glance or two of him at the funeral it’s self, but I hadn’t spotted him there… I didn’t think him to miss the wake.

I found Goten again long after the wake was over…

Goten always leaves himself open to me if I ever need him, and over the years I’d come to know his Ki as well as my own, always there in a steady pulse that I can feel in the back of my mind when ever I reach for it.

Some how I always find this reassuring, like the sound of another voice when you’re alone. I suppose this was because we’re Saiyan… at least part Saiyan anyway; it’s another aspect to our telepathic gift between members of our own race, yet strangely enough I cant feel any of the others in this manner…not even my father.

A soft humming had been the first thing that caught my attention and I’d found Goten perched on a tomb stone. Some how the image of him stands out more than others as I think back; His head had been bowed down slightly so his eyes were on the ground, he was tracing the cracks on the stone under him with his finger tips, his body swaying slightly with the gentle notes.

He had shed his coat; which he’d draped over the branch of a tree as well as his suit jacket and tie. The first few buttons on his dress shirt had been undone and half of it was untucked from his pants. I remember frowning as I walked to him, asking him what he was doing there and I reached out for him… only have him to slide back and drop from the tomb stone and lean against another.

He informed me that he’d been hot, words so soft I could barely make them out.

…It was freezing out side, my body had already been numb for searching for him in the cold and I was more than ready to go inside and warm back up. I’d taken another step towards him, informing him that it was far too cold for him to be out, he only back away from be again, tossing his head back so spiky locks fell into his eyes, glossy still from tears. I could tell he’d been trying not to cry, his body trembling slightly from the effort of it.

My heart ached for him and I’d beckoned him to me, stopping to watch as he paced back and forth fiercely, his dark eyes wilder than I think I’d ever seen them…and more confused as if he weren’t sure what he was even doing there. He’d shook his head growling at me to leave him alone.

This time I demanded that he came to me, which he did after a moment with his head down, ashamed I’m sure of me seeing him like that.

I took him in my arms, hugging him tightly, rewarded with a soft whimper before he returned the hug weakly, burying his face against my neck.

I told him I was sorry about his mother, and that I loved him… and any thing else I could say to ease his pain as I rubbed his back gently, resting my chin against the top of his head, just holding him as he cried, feeling his tears hot against my throat, such an odd contrast against his cold skin.

I took him back to the capsule corps and tucked him into my bed. Spending the night with him safely in my arms, listening to him pour his sweet little heart out, able to do nothing more than comfort and hold him… kiss him deeply, telling him again that I loved him. Until at last he’d exhausted him self and fell asleep.

I feel the heat of his body against mine as I write, his soft breathing reassuring to me…one of sounds I find I enjoy most next to the soft beating of his heart when I rest my cheek against his chest. I know now that his pain is mine, it hurts more than anything to see him so upset.

It makes me ache even now to watch him sleep. I prey his dreams are peaceful ones- . Perhaps of angles? Or of all the wonderful memories he has of his mother as he grew , to remember how much she loved him…and know that she’ll stay with him forever.

I can only hope that time will heal my beloved… and I could perhaps help.