Bulma could only hope that it was no mistake to entrust her life to these warriors. Who knew what they would do to her if they changed their minds. But one thing she knew for sure. She would not stay here. No matter how dangerous, she would seek rev...
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The sun slowly began to bathe the western capital in its golden light, stirring the spirits of its inhabitants.
A new day had dawned. For some earlier, others later. Adapted to the rhythm of individual life. Bulma, too, was unusually early that morning. The light of the bright star crept through her curtain like a snake. Over the floor and the scattered things and up to her sleeping place. Like an insect that drove Bulma to madness with its whirring and robbed her of her sleep.
But one could not get rid of this troublemaker so easily, even when Bulma turned around or even pressed a pillow on her face. The mirror by her closet reflected the morning sun unpleasantly back and made her groan grumbling. Why did she have to be woken up like that? The sun disturbed her beauty sleep. What do you mean it was late?
Drunk asleep, she rolled around on her bed. She wrapped herself up in the blanket like a burrito and then looked at the digital alarm clock.
"What?!" She fell to the floor in shock, tied from her sleeping place with a dull rumble. Some pillows followed her, as did the alarm clock.
Bulma groaned as the small device hit her face, leaving a red mark on her delicate skin. * A great start to the day* the young woman thought to herself, grumbling. She reached for the alarm clock, which was now lying next to her and looked at the digital numbers.
" 7:00 in the morning." It escaped her groaning. Shortly afterwards she pressed a pillow into her face and screamed her frustration into it. She could not believe it. Why was she already awake at such an early hour?
Most of the time she stayed in her feathers until 10 o'clock when the weekend arrived. Dreaming of beaches, beautiful men or even a special invention that could solve the problems of the whole world and win the Nobel Prize.
Or ... Was it exactly that? A strange dream she had had the night before. So surreal that it almost felt real. Like a memory of something from the past that had been repressed
She tried to shake off the thoughts of it and climb back into bed. She could rack her brains over this even when her day started 3 hours later and her mind had a nice cup of coffee. It was just too early to get up or to think about it. Everyone would agree with her.
The Bulma-Burrito tried hard to get back into bed. Not so easy if you couldn't use your legs or arms properly. She just felt more like a turtle in the mountains. Awkward, defenseless and at the mercy of others.
But after what felt like an eternity, Bulma had fought her way back to bed. She tried to sleep a few hours longer to start the day with more energy. Just close her eyes and dream back to the beach, where tanned men with cocktails under palm trees courted her attention and... No, not a chance.
