Red Right Hand

Chapter 2: Designed and directed by his red right hand

He awoke where he had fallen unconscious. In the middle of the living room. His eyes stared forward to the ceiling as he fought to not welcome the darkness once again. He wanted to . . . but a voice stopped him. One he loathed.

"You're not going to school today." The voice boomed and commanded him. He shakily put his weight onto his elbows as he sat up; they were the only things that supported his weak and sore body. Ebony eyes looked toward his father reluctantly.

"Did you hear me? Or do I have to imprint it on your mind?" The young boy answered quickly yes, I heard you. His father nodded and looked over him quickly, not wanting his eyes to linger any more than they had.

"Go get cleaned up. You look disgusting." His father sat upon a torn recliner, his glaring eyes not really directed towards him. It made him sick enough just to talk to the worthless piece of shit he called a son, let alone look at him. He watched without sympathy as his son slowly got up.

Goku bit into his bottom lip as he fought not to cry out in pain. Every pain in his body seemed to have awakened at the same time. He finally managed to get to his feet, they cried under him, wanting to give away- but he wouldn't let that happen, not with his father sitting there.

He removed his filth from the living room he only added to the mess, stepping over beer cans that were scattered across the dirty carpet, down the short hall and into the small bathroom.

His hands wiped the thin layer of- he didn't even know what it was, and he didn't want to know- off the mirror, making sure to wash his hands very well afterwards.

He was appalled by what he saw. Bruises covered his smooth skin; dried blood was still flaking off of the area under his nose and the side of his lips. He quickly brought water to his face, washing it of the grime.

With a heavy sigh, he dried the cool liquid from his face making sure that all the blood was gone. He cursed his father under his breath as he set the towel back down on the sink and his soft gaze turned towards the shower.

He pulled back the curtain and felt his stomach heave. His father had obviously forgot where he should have been throwing up . . .

He coughed as the horrid stench reached him, his hand going to his face and covering his nose. It stung at his eyes as he turned on the water and it quickly washed away the vomit.

He was lucky his father only drank beer and didn't eat anything; then this would be more unpleasant than it already was. He groaned as he slipped free from his clothes, the fabric pulling across his wounds that he had yet to see.

His clothes fell to the floor and he stepped into warm water. It always seemed to comfort him, but it ended as he heard the bathroom door open and his father's voice reached him.

"I want this house cleaned up when I get back. If it isn't . . ." Goku felt a chill run up his spine. He didn't even want to know what the other man was thinking as he heard the door slam shut.

With another sigh he brought the soap to his skin, barely letting it touch the battered skin of his arm. His side was riddled with purple, his skin shuddered under the soap as he felt tears choke him. They came back once again, not stopping for nothing. The salt mixed with the clean fresh water as they slid from his eyes; his back came to rest against the cool wall of the shower. The water now barely touching his skin, only his thighs and feet were being sprayed by the liquid as he stood there sobbing.

His mind screamed for him to call the cops and free himself from this misery . . . but then he'd be alone . . . and he feared being alone . . . his father would come around, his heart reminded him. Like the good old days . . . They seemed so far away . . .

When they would go to the park, him and his brother Radditz playing baseball with their father; hitting the ball out of sight almost every time. That was when his mother was still alive . . .

She was so beautiful . . . thick glossy brown hair past her shoulders, a thin body with a rich golden tan to enhance her beauty even more. Her soft voice would sing lullabies to them even as they grew older. Goku never grew tired of them, yet Radditz had . . . he was a few years older than him, 5 to be exact, Goku understood that he was growing up and didn't want to be treated like a child anymore. But Goku adored his mother and he knew she loved to sing to them so every night he would listen to her soothing voice and drift into a blissful sleep.

He missed those days so much . . . he longed for them every time he tried to sleep. But found it hard to do with his father lurking around. He would often be kept up by moans and cries from his father's room, the bed post slamming into the wall loudly as he shut his eyes tightly and placed his pillow over his head, trying to shut out the noises. But it never helped . . .

He moved back under the water, letting his tears wash away but his cursed thoughts remained.

His hands brought shampoo to his hair and quickly cleaned it, then conditioned the soft hair, rinsing it. Then he was ready to dry and get some clean clothes on. In no time he was out of the shower and dressed. His spikes once again messy and his thick bangs fell into his heavy lidded eyes.

He picked up each beer can and placed them into the trash can, wiped up spilled beer and possibly contents of his father's stomach. It took an hour to clean just the living room. It was disgusting . . . he was ashamed to live in such a nasty house.

It was 3 o'clock when he finished cleaning the small home. His sore body needed some fresh air. He slipped on his worn shoes and made his way outside, the warm sunlight heating his bruised skin. He walked down the sidewalk that same feeling hit him . . . the back of his neck tingled as if someone was watching him.

He spun quickly and saw no one, yet again. He felt a tinge of fear bubble in his stomach but he forced it back down. There was nothing to worry about . . .

As he strolled down the street, he smiled at neighbors that waved back. Many people knew him, but were not fond of his father. Not many were. They didn't know of his cruelty but he was the town drunk that tried to get alcohol from anyone with any means necessary. If it meant giving away his son's clothes, they would be gone in a flash. Another reason why he kept spare clothes in his locker.

He had never met any of his father's drinking buddies and he was very glad he hasn't. He didn't know what they would do to him if they were drunk . . . He doubted his father would do anything to stop those bastards . . .

He stopped as he felt something calling to him.

No sounds were heard, but some strange force caused him to look to the right.

A store had just opened. He vaguely recalled that it had been bought by someone that came from the big city . . .

The red 'open' sign on the door seemed to call his name and pull him towards it. His feet moved under him and he soon found his hand on the door knob and turning it.

His breathing hitched as he stopped himself. Wondering why his mind was so hazy. He shook his head to clear the gray but it remained, he felt the knob jerk away from him and the door stood open in front of him. He stood amazed- inquiring who had opened it.

The heat from inside seemed to warm his soul as he stood outside in the sudden cold. The warmth beckoned him and he let himself step inside, the door shutting quietly behind him.

A deep voice came from the left. His eyes shot in the direction, his heart suddenly thundering within his chest. He stepped closer to the man dressed in black slacks and a dark blue long sleeve shirt. He mind questioned why the man would be wearing such an outfit in such heat?

"Hello, how may I help you?" He said smoothly, a smile on his lips. Goku's eyes trailed up the man's shorter body and to his upswept black hair. He had a feeling in his gut that he had seen this man before . . . but where?

Goku just shrugged lazily and glanced around the fairly large store. It appeared so small from outside . . . He moved away from the man and started through the store, seeing many expensive looking items that he knew he wouldn't be able to pay for.

Something caught his eyes. Everything seemed to fade from existence as his eyes rested upon it.

It looked just like her . . . He didn't dare pick it up as he stared at the picture. His mother . . .oh god it was so beautiful . . . it had to be her . . . His hand moved forward and lightly touched the painting to make sure it was real. He felt the dried paint under his fingertips.

"Beautiful isn't she . . ." A voice started him from his daze. He spun to see the man from the counter smiling at him, his hands in his pockets. Goku nodded and looked back to it.

"She looks just like my mother." Goku said softly.

"You must take after her then." His voice was low and breathy as he moved to stand beside the teen.

Goku seemed to ignore him as he stared at the artwork. "How much?"

The man didn't answer for a moment; he looked over the boy and frowned. "Nothing you can afford." And it was so true. Goku's eyes slid shut for a moment and reopened. His father would love to have this, as would he. "But . . ." Goku was shaken from his thoughts as he heard his word. "If you want it that much . . . I suppose . . . you could have it . . . for a small price . . ." Hope filled Goku's eyes as he faced the man.

"What? I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Goku felt the man's hand on his shoulder but he didn't look to it. "If it means that much to you I wouldn't want to deprive you of anything . . ." Goku listened to the man's calm voice; it was almost as soothing his mother's. "If you want to, you could always come by and help me here. I could use an extra hand and you can do some small favors for me." A rare smile came to the teen's face. He nodded.

"Sure, I'll come by as much as I can." The hand pulled away from his shoulder as he moved.

"Take it. It's yours."

He carefully brought it into his hands, cherishing the picture by running his hand across it. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He felt like hugging the man but he didn't dare.

"It was my pleasure. By the way . . . my name is Vegeta."

"I'm Goku." He nodded at the boy, not taking his hands from his pockets to shake his hand.

Goku looked up to a small clock and his eyes went wide. It was almost 8 o'clock! Had that much time passed? It confused him for a moment as he looked upon it. "I'm really sorry- I have to be going. I'll try to be by tomorrow." He gave a quick wave with his free hand and went back into the cold air.

The man stood in silence as he watched Goku leave. The smile on his face disappearing as the boy left his sight.

He moved his hands to where the picture had been moments earlier; his fingers trailing across the cool metal despite how hot it was in the store.

He looked up as the door opened and another victim came inside, a slightly dazed look upon their face. A grin came to his face as something appeared where the picture had been moments earlier. His hands remained in his pocket. All his plans were coming to play . . .

To be continued . . .

Agent 182: Thank you for the reviews- you guys kick ass! * grins * I hope you enjoyed the chapter and as always it is very nice to receive reviews!