Hi everyone!

It was strange, but I suddenly had enough inspiration to write this :O It was in my mind for quite some time and yesterday I decided that I would finally begin with it.

This story will have a sequal, I can already tell (if I'm able to finish this one at least). The sequal will be Gohan's take on everything, since everything in this one will be through the eyes of Videl.

Without any further delay, the story shall commence :p

Chapter one:

Me and the Life I Loathe

As always, the beginning of my day, whether it turns out to be bad day or a tolerable, whether the sun is shining brightly or it is raining cats and dogs, whether it is summer or winter, spring or autumn… the day is initiated by the most annoying, despicable, and unmistakably the most unbearable sound I have ever heard, a sound I hear every morning, but where I just can't seem to get used to even if I would hear it a thousand times a day…




The fear of all those who love to sleep in, of all those who are reluctant to meet a new day, of all those who want to remain in the world of dreams and surrealism. The fear of all men and women, adults and children, employers and employees, teachers and student.

And I belong to the last group.

With a groan I rolled over to the other side of my fairly large bed and without hesitance I slammed my fist into the reason that my day was already ruined:

The dreadful alarm clock.

When my fist hit the snooze button on top of the small clock with more force than I had intended, the sound immediately stopped and gratefully, yet still annoyed, I dove deeper into my quilt, not quite ready to rise and greet the day with a smile… or in my case, a scowl.

I almost again fell asleep, barely being aware of my surroundings in my deep state of unconsciousness, until ten minutes later I was again awoken by a sound that anyone should be spared of at this hour in the morning.

"Good morning, Satan City!"

Bah, whose bright idea was it to invent the clock radio?

"It is a beautiful day in the sunny, orange city and I just heard that it's going to be even better. The weather's going to be friendly to us with temperatures above 70 degrees and a mild east-wind. So that must be kick-ass news for all the young students of Satan City. Yes, yes folk, today is the first day of the new schoolyear!"

I let out a muffled grunt from under my quilt. Stupid DJ, he just had to remind me of my soon-to-be-realized nightmare.

"So all the students listening to Ricky Kenicky's Monday Morning Moodbooster: I wish you a good year and keep in mind only one thing: Senior prom! That's where you doing it for! So tell me, how was your prom when you were in highschool, Eve?"

The giggling voice of the fellow, female DJ told us all the insignificant details of her uninteresting prom and I was listening to it with the most aggravated mood I had ever had at this hour.

"Okay, Eve, perhaps you should stop now."

"Thank you!" I muttered with heavy sarcasm as I finally decided to rise from out of my quilt.

"So people, c'mon, come ooooonn. Rise and shine, it's a beautiful day!"

I cocked my eyebrows when I heard the background tune they used this time. Argh, who in the world would ever want to listen to the melody of 'always look on the bright side of life' when it was the beginning of a miserable day, and even more so, the start of a miserable year? I wondered if Knicky McDicky, or whatever his name was, was intending to send students into their customary end-of-the-schoolyear-depression already.

"And for all the poor students tuning in… I really do feel sorry for y'all. This one's for you, U2 with 'Beautiful Day.'"

Ah, better. Much better.

With a reluctance that everyone has to leave his warm and comfortable bed, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and I let my feet reach to the ground, a shiver going through my spine as I touched the cold surface of my laminated floor.

Now there was no way I could go back.

The year had started today.

I rose from my bed and waggled to the bathroom to take a quick shower, which I hoped would let me forget about today.

It did not.

I let the warm water go over my body, but it didn't soothe me as it should. Even my favorite shower gel (orange blossom) couldn't lift my mood up. After a few minutes of standing motionlessly under the showerhead, I decided that either I could remain standing there in the cabin all day, skipping the beginning of the year quietly and hoping that no-one would notice, or I could go to school after all.

In all my cowardice, I chose the second option.

With the same apprehension as I had before taking shower, I carefully dried myself with the big white towels, encircling my body with one and twisting my damp hair into the other. I walked into my room again and with a sigh I looked at the alarm. The red numbers on the little screen had changed until they read 06:14. Somehow I had the idea that the alarm was sticking out its tongue to me. But that must have been my imagination.

Slowly, as if I wanted to make time pass more slowly, I dressed myself into my clothes. The DJ on the radio had been right, it was a beautiful day, with a perfect blue, cloudless sky and the warm sun just above the horizon. So I decided I would do some skating before I went to school.

That was something I always liked to do. Skating was like walking to me and I seriously can't remember a time that I couldn't skate. My mother always said that it was like I could skate sooner than I could walk, that I was born in my in-lines. I think I believed that up until I was ten or something, but then I grew older and started to realize that such things weren't possible. Still, skating was one of my passions in life and I was positive that it would help me get over my first-day-of-the-year-depression.

I combed my tangled, still damp hair, I brushed my teeth and got my in-lines out of the closet and ordered myself to look in the mirror just one time. And when I did, I was not entirely satisfied with the sight I saw.

My clothes were fine. I wore a pair of baggy gray shorts that came to my knees and a loose white sweater that came to my hips. It somehow gave me the 'Don't mess with me' attitude and I liked it. But it were not the clothes I was worried about.

I slightly bent forward and looked at my face in the mirror. My skin, my almost translucent skin, was awfully pale today, lacking any color on my cheeks. It was plainly dull, and with horrified disappointment I noticed that my skin didn't quite hide the purplish, dark rings under my eyes. I scolded at myself for not taking any sleeping tablets yesterday… I had had a rough night, for fear for today. I clasped my shoulder length black hair that framed my face sleekly and I slowly let my shoulders hang as I noticed that the black hair also turned out to be quite a contribution to the shade of my skin. The contrast, I thought, was quite freaky and it made my face even more paler than it already was. The only thing that pulled my face a little bit out of the veil of dullness, were my eyes. I was kind of pleased with my eyes. They carried of a deep and clear shade of blue, but at the same time almost bordering to violet. My eyes were my pride, not only because I thought they were kind of nice, but also because I had inherited them from my mother.

For a few minutes I remained like this, until, the alarm reading 6:26, I decided it was time for me to make my way to the dining room, where my father would inevitably be waiting for me with breakfast.

As if today wasn't bad as it was, I also had to play the good daughter for a few minutes. Because that was how long I would be in there… a few minutes. I would stuff my face with my breakfast and then I would head out immediately to the centre of Satan City, where I could skate at will through the park and over the broad pavements of the city's streets.

With my aggravated mood almost bordering to anger I strode out of my room to go and eat my damn breakfast with my father. I went downstairs, almost falling of the stairs in the process. It was sheer luck that our butler was at the right place at the right time and caught me before I would make that painful fall to the stone ground.

"Careful, Miss Satan… We wouldn't want you to miss out on your first day." The butler said with an encouraging smile on his handsome face. I muttered indecipherably, being a little bit ashamed with my unintentional escapade on the stairs. But my thoughts had grown darker…

It was a sign.

An almost death experience – well, sort of… don't know if falling of the stairs would have killed me… more likely it would have given me a broken leg or something – was an omen. Especially today, on the first day of school. I let my head hang in despair.

How in the world was I going to survive this year?

I muttered my awkward thanks to the butler and made my was to the dining room, this time without falling.

When I entered the room, I saw I had been right about my father. He was sitting at the head of the table, the Satan Daily pontifically before him, making it impossible for me to see his face. Not that I needed to see, I knew exactly what he looked like. Behind those thin sheets of paper was a heavily and unnaturally tanned face, with blindingly white (and fake, I might add) teeth and black, afro-like hair. He had a carefully styled mustache on his upper lip and traces of stubble all the way to his ridiculous whiskers. My father was literally a parody on himself, only he had no clue that he looked like a clown rather than the handsome man he once was.

"Good morning." I mumbled as I unwillingly made my way to the chair on his left.

"G'morning, sweet pea." He said tonelessly from behind his paper, obviously not intending on paying much attention to me.

I didn't mind.

But what I did mind, was the endearment he used.

"Dad, don't call me that." I merely stated coldly, as I sat down onto the softly pillowed chair.

"Oh, sorry." Came his aloof response and I rolled my eyes. Could that man be more disinterested.

Quickly I poured some fresh orange juice into one of the crystal glasses and collected some toast and eggs onto my plate. This would be one quick breakfast. I ate my food without any further delay, with that gaze of an apparently escaped criminal on my right (remember, the front page of the paper was where my father face should be). Needless to say, I was surprised when all of a sudden I heard my father voice.

"So, your first day of school, huh?" He said without lowering his paper.

I watched the photograph of the escaped criminal with suspicion, pretending it to be my father's face. It was easier to talk to him this way.

"Yeah." I replied sulkily, still kind of shocked that he had opened his mouth and said something to me. The only exchange of words we normally had in the morning were 'good morning' and 'goodbye', and any other verbal contact was limited to 'pass the salt, please' or 'what do the weather forecasts say?'

"Excited?" He asked, apparently being forced to ask me about my school because of his father instincts, but too lazy to form whole sentences because of his own character. I, again, rolled my eyes.

"I'm thrilled." Came my overly sarcastic reply. He didn't catch it.

"It's your last year, huh?"

'My, my father… how did you get so observant?' was a thought that ran through my mind as I took a few bites of my toast.

"It is."

I heard him grunt in reply and he turned another page of his paper. I thought this was the end of our extremely long conversation (at least, for our terms) and I almost sighed in relief.

But he continued, to my great dismay.

"I know I should say you should give it your best shot, but you don't have to. I already made sure that you pass for all your tests." Came his extraordinary long array of words.

I merely nodded, and as he couldn't see it, he took my silence as an answer. We finished our meals without any further exchange of words. He continued on reading his paper as he had done all the time and I was lost in my endless stream of thoughts.

My father, Hercule Satan, had already made sure that I pass for all my tests… I didn't even want to know how, but probably involved a large sum of Satan money. So basically I could just sit back and relax the entire year, because no matter what, it was certain that I already had my diploma's. If I wanted, I would never have to open a single book to study for any kind of test or make my homework. And that is how it always has been on highschool. My father had made sure I passed every year.

But just like I did every year, I decided for myself that I indeed would give it my best shot, even though it wasn't required. It was the last chance I had, after all. My last chance to be a student, for next year, I would be following my father's footsteps and I would become a true martial artist. That meant that this year would only be less nightmarish than the next. I should enjoy it while I still could. So I decided I would make the best of it.

I finished my breakfast and saying a quick 'goodbye' I almost ran out of the room, my in-lines dangling in my hand. I put them on in our excessively huge garden, since the servants wouldn't appreciate it if I put them on in the house. I was too polite for that anyway.

I got my blue I-pod out of my pocket and I put the plugs in my ears. I would not be distracted by anything while I was skating. I slid the I-pod in the pocket of my shorts again and with the hood of my sweater covering my hair, I skated out of the garden and of the property.

I quickly slid across a long lane of large villa's, some quite like my father's but never as big or with having as much ground as my father, and in no time at all I came to the street's end.

With no trouble at all, since I took this route several times a week, I skated through a few empty streets, until it finally got more crowded. The next couple of streets were full of people and it got more crowded and crowded with each passing corner. In a few minutes I was in the old centre of Satan City, with the noisy traffic and the stress-out people.

Freer and lighter than I had felt this entire morning, I skated on the broad pavements, probably getting on people's nerves as I carefully avoided them, but came too close to them nonetheless. I could only laugh at their fear for a collision. I was a too good of a skater to crash into someone or something anyway.

I reached the city park and I left the pavements of the streets to slide my way to the winding paths of the park lanes, relieving all the people I supposedly put into jeopardy with my hazardous, but controlled skating.

The park was considerably less crowded than the streets of Satan City, and I only came across a couple of runners. I wasn't surprised. No-one in this city had time for something like working out or exrecizing, especially not in the morning. I did however see some irritated dog owners, who were pushing their dogs almost pleadingly to relieve themselves.

I kept on doing my thing with the music in my ears. I was listening to a rather unknown rock band, who were still making some quality music. They probably would go commercial one of these years, so I enjoyed them as much as I could now.

With satisfaction I noticed that nobody I had came across, not in the park and also not on the streets, had turned their head towards me to stare at me rudely. They probably hadn't recognized me with my hood on and I smiled contently. Nothing was worse than to be stared at because of your celebrity status.

Because I was quite a celebrity.

And it was not because of the reasons I would have liked, but because of my father. I was, after all, the famous daughter of Mr. Satan, savior of the world. And I hated it.

For more than half an hour, I skated through the park like any normal person would, until I decided that I was still quite hungry. The breakfast I had eaten wasn't really enough for me, but at the time I didn't want to eat more because then I would be stuck in one room with my father longer than I would have liked. I did anything to avoid that possibility.

So I left the winding paths of the park and I reached the now even more crowded pavements again. I crossed the busy road after the traffic lights allowed me (and dozens of other people for that matter, but that's only a detail) and I was now on the other side of the road, where the shops and restaurants and the cafeteria's were. Without thinking , because I came there so often, I slid to a small cafeteria with a signboard with 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' on it.

I knew the name was stupid, but they had the most delicious lettuce, cucumber and cheese (and then I mean the real cheese) sandwiches in the city. So with my skates on, as I knew they wouldn't mind anyway, I entered the place and I rolled to the line in front of the counter. The line wasn't very long.

My eyes scoured the place. There were the sitting area on my left, with the small, but cute tables and the comfortable chairs. I wouldn't sit however, I would get my sandwich and leave the place. I wasn't really the sitting person.

There weren't many people in the sitting area. I had expected than much, not only because it was barely after seven, which was quite early for most people, but also because most customers just got their coffee or sandwiches and ran through the door again to be in time for their work. I saw perhaps only ten or twelve people at the tables, whereas if the place were full, it could have hold almost six times as much.

My eyes left the sitting area and it fixed them to the counter. Behind the counter were two girls, giggling and blond and to my slight irritation, quite pretty. They were all pretty, for that matter. And older than me, in their early twenties, while I was a young seventeen years old. I felt self-conscious, all of a sudden.

I fixed my gaze to the ground. I sighed as I thought that people would probably notice the difference between me and those girls. And then the disapproving looks of those girls when they would help me… I was well aware that I wasn't quite up to date with my clothing and that my hair wasn't the latest model either. I also wasn't wearing any make-up… at all… ever. I disliked it.

The girls behind the counter would probably grin triumphantly when they saw me. It wasn't that it didn't happen to me before.

It was in that moment, that unexpected and unprepared moment, that I, in all my sadness, looked up…

… and met his eyes.

Okay, that's it.

So what'd you think? Is it too much that I gave Videl more life that she had in the anime? Let me know what you think.

Next chapter is up in an undefinite amount of time, though I don't think it should take too long.

Anyway, review please ;)