A/N - Point out any mistakes you see please. This is my first DBZ fanfic. So I hope it turns out ok. I'm a bit nervous about it and I'd REALLY like some feedback. Any kind is welcome, even if it's bad. As long as you tell me whats wrong with it. Thank you.

He shot up in his bed, fist clinging desperately to the sheets below him. Sweat beads roll down his body as the room lit up for a split second, a deafening crashing sound following shortly after. He gasped for the air he needed, feeling as if it were sucked out of his sleeping body. The gasping slowed to an almost normal poise as he pressed the back of his hand to his damped forehead. He turned and looked out the window, his room lit up once more, leading the loud crashing that followed suit. He watched the branch outside his window, bobbing to and fore as the rain and wind pounded down from the heavens. He sighed softly before scooting to the edge of the bed, resting his face in his hands. He opened his eyes and glared through the space in between his figures, down at the pillow that had, at one point during the night been throw across the room, resting silently on the blue rug that spread over the wooden floor. "That dream again."

"Trunks, sweetheart? Are you feeling alright?" The blue haired women, who was currently leaning against the counter holding onto a mug of piping hot coffee. Trunks sighed as he plopped himself down on one of the few chairs placed around a small round table. "Trouble sleeping?" She questioned, sitting down across him, carefully sitting her mug on the trouble. "You could say that," the lavender haired boy says, propping his elbow on the table and resting his tired head in his hand. Bulma gave her son a worried frown, as she rested her chin in her hand. "Tell your mama what's the matter, son." Trunks blushes at the title his mother gave herself. He pushed the thought back, deciding it was not important. "I've been having a reoccurring dream," looking over at his mother, taking in her concerned expression. She opened her mouth, pausing for a moment to think. "A nightmare?" She asked, straining her back to lean closer to her beloved son, preparing herself for what she was about to hear. She expected the half Saiyan to tell her about some sort of scary dream, possibility involving past events that would mentally scar any normal soul. However, she witnessed a blush spread over his checks, hearing a nervous stutter, followed by a cough. "Well… um… not exactly," he mutters rubbing the back of his neck, which began to form sweat. Bulma raised her aging eyebrow, before her lips flicked into a knowing smirk. "Ah, I get it; been having a dream about a girl. I knew it was only a matter of time," she remarks leaning back in her chair and shaking her head, as Trucks, nearly falling from his seat, spout confused stutter of words. His checks burning with the embarrassment caused by his mothers comment. "M-mother!" He finally managed to crack out after getting to his feet. Bulma merely surges her shoulders and takes a sip of her

coffee.-Eyes slowly drift open, the light from the moon, bright and elegant, broke through the thick trees and high weeds. The moon almost engulfs the entire sky, making little room for the tiny sprinkling stars. The boy lies there, staring at the sky, not a thought entering his clouded mind: not a sound made by his motionless body. The scenery was beautiful, extraordinary; lush trees and bushes, circling around the boy, creating a dome like shape around him. A small, almost perfectly round clearing in the center, allowing a full view of the moon. The stars peeks from the trees, making it look as if small lights were implanted in the bush. To set the scenery in place, a tinging sound was echoing throughout the forest; it had a rhythm, creating a soothing melody. The boy lying in the heart of the clearing ignored the sound at first, not thinking, or hearing. However as it continued to grow in velocity, the boys attention was brought to it, curiosity was peeked. He rose from his laying position, glancing around; it was hard to tell which direction it was coming from, the echoing the sound made caused it to sound as if it were all around him. He spun around, continually, desperately trying to figure out the direction, as it became louder and clearer. A voice seemed to grow with it, beautiful and passionate; however undistinguishable, but still the most magnificent sound the boy has ever heard. His heartbeat increased as the music overflowed his senses. He spun faster, taking steps as he look behind every tree, every bush; suddenly, He stopped. A shadow caught his peripheral; he stood, frozen at the creature before him; his mouth gaped open as he watched it, sway and twirl in tune with the melody. His heart beat continued to increase as he gaze at it; it's hair hanging so low it nearly touched the ground and looked almost as if made of feathers from the most luscious bird. It was black, fading lightly at the very tips. It swirled around the creature's bare body as it moves: no, glides about. The boy, unable to suppress his tremendous fascination, drew his shaking arm up, reaching out to the divine being; taking in sharp breaths. He takes a few unsteady steps toward his interest. Reaching up further; his finger tips merely a few inches away; he was seconds from touching that long flowing hair, the being spun around suddenly, music halting as she does this. The boy frozen in place, he gasped in surprise, before silence overcame the entire forest. The being closed its arms over its chest, grasping its face, whimpering could be heard radiating from the trembling body. Sympathy showing in the boys eyes, he begun to open his mouth to voice his reasoning. However, his eye widened as he hung his mouth opened, trying to speak, but finding it impossible. He attempted to reach his hand to his face, finding his body, too, is unable to function. He looked at the creature, fear replacing the sympathy that was there moments ago. Suddenly, a high pinched wail echoed throughout the forest. The creature looks up, it's face hidden in a black shadow, it's hair flawed out as it lounged forward, the forest wilting behind it as every time turned black.