Dear Future.

Chapter One

"Beep, beep!" said the stupid alarm clock which stood proudly on my little nightstand. as this happened, I shifted onto my side as I ran a hand through my hair, sighing. It was time to get up and finally go to school. Yes, I have went to school plenty, but today was a different day. As said, today is the first day of the 6th grade, and my dad wasn't having any of it. 

"Wake up, Idiot! Get your ass off your bed and go to school! I didn't agree to waking you up!" I heard his commanding voice boom from the bottom of the stairs. Very scary if I say. I quickly threw off the cyan  colored blanket off of my as I sat up straight, rubbing my eyes thoroughly and roughly to get the tired out of me.
"I'm coming, father!" I called out to him as I then stood up, patting down my pastel pajamas from their wrinkles. I then quickly opened my door and slowly walked towards the stairway, my ocean-blue eyes peering from behind the wall, almost hidden from sight. I saw my dad's tired and mad state as he stood crossing his arms, already fully dressed in casual wear, although there were pretty clear eye bags under his dark unnerving eyes.

"Are you stupid? I see your fucking eyes, Trunks. Get your lazy ass down these stairs! You're eating breakfast, then you're getting dressed. Understood?"

"I-.. But, that doesn't make sen-"

"Understood?!" He said in a louder voice, cutting me off from my remark. I rolled my eyes.
"Understood." I said lightly as I stepped down the stairs quickly, not wanting to anger the beast any further. He had a smile on his face when he saw my clearly unhappy face. I don't know if I should call it a smile, or a smirk. As he did so, he also made a sound that one would do after being right and proud. I couldn't roll my eyes now, but I would. I made my way to the kitchen sluggishly as I opened a cabinet which carried a perfect bowl for my favorite cereal, Cap'n Crunch. I took out both the cereal and a bowl, along with a small spoon because I hate eating food with ginormous spoons. As I made the luxurious meal, I saw my mom sitting on the couch reading a newspaper. Who reads those anymore? Eh, but she's way more better than my dad, and better to look at. I then carried my bowl, which had the spoon in it as well, to the table as I set it down before sitting down on the wooden chair which was considered my spot. My dad, who was now next to my mom on the couch, was scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at the news or getting tips on how to 'treat a bad kid'. I'm not a bad kid, but if I told him that, he would totally back himself up with false information. He barely even looks at me anymore, as if embarrassed by me. As I ate my cereal quietly, my eyes focused on the bowl of cereal, I felt happy at last. I then finished quickly, not bothering to drink the milk because my dad always yells at me for doing that because it 'wastes' time. Ugh! I could totally say something about how much food he eats in a day! But then again, I do eat a lot as well.

"How was your morning, Vegeta?" I heard my mom's soft voice ring out as I put my plates into the sink before leaving the area because of the tension. What tension? My dad never answers my mom's question about his morning, which causes an argument to ring out. And I was right. As soon as I headed back up the stairs, they were yelling at each other.

As I made it into my room, I pulled out the assigned uniform out of my drawer: a black and gold button-up collared shirt with a pair of matching pants and dull black shoes. I don't really mind it at all, but I will surely stand out because of my light purple hair. I wish I had black hair like my dad, or something dark, because I might be accused of dying it. As said, I got dressed and walked to my bathroom, staring into the mirror in a dulled way. Softly, I lifted up a strand of my rather soft hair and narrowed my eyes to get a better look at its color. My mom's hair is blue, and my dad's is black, so why is my hair purple? Maybe my mom dyed her hair? I don't know.

"Idiot!! Get your ass out of the house with your bag or die!"

A slap is heard, probably from my mom slapping my dad.