The 17th

The short story that follows is somewhat of a "What-If" questioning the possibility of specific events in the history of teh Dragon Ball Z continuity. It conveys occurrences and actions that may be accurate. However, how accurate it may seem depends on the opinon of you, my fellow reader. But consider it as a simple work of fiction. Read with an open mind. And as always, enjoy.

DatKiddown the street

With each passing day, it slowly slips away. My memory worms its way out of my grasp progressively. But I know there isn't much significant things to remember. So I figure talking about what's left of my memory will help preserve them in my head.

I never had any direction. No guidance. Just impulsiveness and a smart mouth. Call it a gift or a curse, that's up to you. I guess you could say I was a trouble maker. Or I just liked to have fun. Every kid does. I just so happened to be more wild.

I don't have a name, don't bother asking. Well a long time ago...of course. But that doesn't matter now. I've been called different things. "Brother", "Heathen", "Delnquent", "Child", "Oh-My-God-Please-Don't.." I don't remember the rest of that last one. Although I do believe some suffocation and blood was involved. Oh well. Call me what you like. The old Doc labeled me as...well I don't think that matters anymore either. Why he chose that number, I'll never know.

Anyways, where was I? Oh. So right now I'm looking at this deer and I realize nature really sucks. I don't know how hippies do it. What's so great about all this.

Why am I in the woods staring at a deer? Good question. Since I've got nothing better to do I'll answer that for you. Long story really. I might sound crazy but just go with it, okay?

I guess I was somewhat the average kid. Rebelling authority. Planting stink bombs in churches. Robbing people in alleyways, you know, the usual. Never really had a choice. Me and my sis we were scavengers. Determind to survive. Whadaya expect some runaways to do huh? Get a job? Be law abiding citizens? That wasn't gonna fly. Yeah yeah we were runaways. And it was tough. Real tough. But we learned that to surivive in a tough world, you gotta be tough yourself. Ya can't expect to make it if you're all sunshine and rainbows. That ain't how life works. It beat us down until we stopped allowing it to.

We were always there for each other. I was all she had and she was the only one that I did. We looked out for each other. No parents. No family. Just each other and some empty old pockets. I'm not about to make a sob story and talk about how difficult it was, so don't expect any water works from me. But yeah it was difficult. How could it not be.

We spent a lot of nights starving, sheltered by the harsh weather and tattered clothes we kept ourselves wrapped in.

I don't remember what our parents looked like or why they were gone The earliest thought I have is a guy pulling a lady into a closet and teh smell of gasoline. Sounds weird I know, but that's all I got. No backstory. Disappointed? Sucks for you.

Anyway, if they died or just left us it's all the same. They ain't here now. After that, I remember some lady in a business suit that smelled like peppermint walking me down a hallway. My sister was sitting somehere there on a wooden bench, holding her head up in her hands. I looked back at her as the lady led me out, into an office. Nearby I heard a gavel and people bustling with conversations as they made their way out through a door behind us. Mixed in the crowd, I caught a glance of the strangers that I'll assume were my parents. Well only the guy. I have no idea where the woman was.