Bulma woke up at 8 the next morning. She began picking out clothes for work when she had this terrible pain in her stomach. Bulma ran to the bathroom and began throwing up. "This can't be normal." Bulma said to herself. She remained sitting by the toilet for a couple of minutes. Bulma finished picking out her clothes, put them on, and ran downstairs for breakfast.
"Hello Bulma dear! How did you sleep? Oh dear, you don't look good at all!" Bulma's mother said when she saw her daughter coming down the stairs.
"I know. I don't feel all that great either." Bulma said sitting down at the table and putting her head in her hands. "Ugh, I've been throwing up every morning now!" she said through her hands. "Maybe i had too much to drink.."
"Bulma, as your mother I have a right to ask you this question. Are you drunk? Have you been drinking?"
"What? MOM! What kind of question is that to ask? Wait a minute! I'm 26 years old. I can do what ever I want!" Bulma said defensively.
Bulma lifted her head up. Her eyes became wide with shock. "Vegeta's not here and...and... I can't believe he's not here! Vegeta where are you?"
Bulma ran up to her room and slammed the door. She looked around and then threw herself on the bed and began to cry. Bulma became tired from all the crying and soon fell asleep. Her mother came up to check on her and saw that she was sleeping.
"Oh, dear." Mrs. Briefs said. She was very concerned about her daughter. Mrs. Briefs thought it would be a good idea not to wake her.
When Bulma woke up it was late evening. She was still sleepy. She stood up and went downstairs. Her mom had gone back to her house and she was there all by herself, or so she thought. She turned the lights on in the kitchen and blinked as the florescent lights took her eyes by surprise.
"Oh man am I tired." Bulma sighed. Her stomach grumbled loudly. Bulma giggled. "I guess I am a little hungry too. I think I will have some ice cream." She opened the fridge and found her favorite type of ice cream, coffee. (A/N My favorite type too!) "Yummy," she said. Bulma opened the drawer and pulled out a spoon. Just as she was going to turn around she heard, or rather, felt something move. Someone was in the house.
Bulma began to panic. Whoever was in the house was at the door of the kitchen. She could feel it. Their eyes were on her. Bulma stared helplessly out the window at her parent's part of the house. They were too far away to hear her scream. There was no way out. Bulma did the first thing that came into her mind. She ran.
Bulma dropped the ice cream and ran for the back door. Just as she opened it two arms shot out on either side of her and the door slammed back shut. She was trapped like a rat. She could feel him breathing on her. "No." She whispered. "It can't be!"
"Oh, but it can."