Disclaimer
I dont own anything fox does. I wright this only for my enjoyment or pain. This is something that wouldnt get out of my head. Thanks Scott who is my acting "Angel". This is my first story so please r&r.

"Righteousness sustains you, as always. This is justice. You were born poor, brilliant, and avaricious. How else could that story ever end? You have what you deserve. Respect. Wealth. Slavery. Hell. You follow the only path that was ever open to you. What could be more righteous? The thorns are right here to prove it.
Punishment comes in strange packages. Your vanity was stabbed deep by dark eyes that looked on you without the slightest grace-note of courtesy, with nothing but disdain. He made you feel like a poor man. It hurt. You know you deserved it. You were lost, without faith, strayed from the path. It hurt, but you took it like a man." the quote is from Righteousness.



Everyday it's the same thing. I get up, shower, shave and get dressed. Then go to work. After work, I come home and take a shower, to get all the dirt off. There isn't enough soap and water in the whole world to get me clean though. I'm always dirty. My soul is dirty. After my shower, I pour myself a scotch. The first shot burn's a hot trail all the way to my stomach. The heat spreading slowly through my limbs, just stopping at the stub where Angel cut off my right hand. I poured another and drank it down. I wonder where I went wrong. All I wanted in life was to be someone, to matter. I didn't want to be like my family. Having no money, no food, dirt poor and miserable. I worked my ass off just to get a break, and that made me bitter. I watch the other people around me. They have it easy.

Darla didn't have it easy, not when she was human anyway. Darla, Mmmm. I picture her in my mind. I can smell her still in my apartment. When she was human she smelled like jasmine, but she was dying, of syphilitic heart congestion. She was a working girl in the New World. Nothing but a whore until the master made her a blood-sucking demon of the night. I fell in love with her right away. We were two peas in a pod. You see we are both whores. She sold her body to make a living for food and a house. I sold my soul every time I took a case, just a little piece at a time.

We are both whores. You needed help and we both went to the same man to help us. He turned us both out into the cold. The vampire with the soul, Angel.

He took so much from me. He is supposed to help the hopeless, but he picks and chooses which souls to save. I may not be a young pretty girl or a child or even a righteous man but I do have a soul. It may be tarnished and faded around the edges, but it's still worth something, right?

I drain my glass and fill it again. If I keep this up I might not make it to the bed before I pass out. Hell this wouldn't be the first time I passed out on the floor.

Now where was I, oh yeah, Angel, I came to him for help, to save children. Even though I was losing my soul I wasn't completely a monster yet. Did he help me? Not really, he laughed in my face, but in the end, we did save those kids. At least I did something for them, not like my sisters or brothers. I couldn't help them I was seven when we lost the house, and there were seven of us, but during flu season our family went down to four. Don't think about them Lindsey, I tell myself never show any weakness, over and over, it was my mantra then and still is. Never show any weakness. I abandon the glass and start drinking straight from the bottle. I can barely taste the alcohol as I stumble to the couch.

Goddamn vampire he was nothing until Darla sired him. He had it so easy, he would still be killing, and giving everyone he meets an ugly death, if it wasn't for that goddamn soul. Bastard! The firm wants him dark they want Angelus back. Me, I would rather stake the self-righteous son of bitch. First I would beat him black and blue again, then stake him. I would bring the ashes to Darla. Then maybe she would forget about him. Maybe she would see me for me. I acted like her toy, I let her use me just to get to him.

I drink more of the scotch spilling half of it onto my chest. I don't care.

There will be a next time, I will be prepared and I will kill him. My eyes close as I slip into unconsciousness, my last thoughts are of Angel. Picturing him broken and bleeding on the ground at him feet. Looking at me with those piercing brown eyes. It was Angel who is my everything, my heaven my hell. He is my salvation and I hate him for it.