Apology 1
By Colleen Hillerup
He laid the single rose in front of the headstone, and knelt on the grass.
"I've been away. No one knows I'm back. Thought I'd talk to you first, if you don't mind.
I made a bloody mess of it, Joyce. I promised you I'd look after them both, and I screwed up. Didn't pay enough attention to Dawn. And Buffy; well, I still can't tell you what I did to her. Times I think you would 'a been better to use the business end a that ax on me in the first place.
I wished I'd told you, while you were still here. You meant so much to me. You took me inta your home, treated me like a person, like a mom would. You gave me those little marshmallows in my cocoa, that extra touch. You were so special. I should a told you. You probably thought I was just bein' nice to get close to Buffy, and at first that was true, but not in the end. I didn't even mind your little gallery stories. Not that much, anyway.
Buffy and I, what we had was wrong. We hurt each other, in too many ways. I woulda said I had the worse end 'a the stick, up until the very last. I'd have to say I tipped the scale, though. You can hate me for eternity, and it's not more than I deserve.
But I've got a soul, now, Joyce, for what that's worth. Yeah, me, just like the big poof. Ya see, I still think Buffy loves me, all told, and I want to be worth it. Even if she never shows me, never trusts me again, I want to be the best person I can. Back her up. Be there for her.
So, I'm sorry. Sorry I couldn't be the kind of man you treated me like. I hope I can get it right now."
He stood, touched his hand to his lips, and grazed the top of the tombstone with his finger tips. "Bye, dear Joyce."
As he turned to leave, his eyes fell on a freshly sodded grave, with a small stone. He gasped. "No. Oh, dear God, no."
By Colleen Hillerup
He laid the single rose in front of the headstone, and knelt on the grass.
"I've been away. No one knows I'm back. Thought I'd talk to you first, if you don't mind.
I made a bloody mess of it, Joyce. I promised you I'd look after them both, and I screwed up. Didn't pay enough attention to Dawn. And Buffy; well, I still can't tell you what I did to her. Times I think you would 'a been better to use the business end a that ax on me in the first place.
I wished I'd told you, while you were still here. You meant so much to me. You took me inta your home, treated me like a person, like a mom would. You gave me those little marshmallows in my cocoa, that extra touch. You were so special. I should a told you. You probably thought I was just bein' nice to get close to Buffy, and at first that was true, but not in the end. I didn't even mind your little gallery stories. Not that much, anyway.
Buffy and I, what we had was wrong. We hurt each other, in too many ways. I woulda said I had the worse end 'a the stick, up until the very last. I'd have to say I tipped the scale, though. You can hate me for eternity, and it's not more than I deserve.
But I've got a soul, now, Joyce, for what that's worth. Yeah, me, just like the big poof. Ya see, I still think Buffy loves me, all told, and I want to be worth it. Even if she never shows me, never trusts me again, I want to be the best person I can. Back her up. Be there for her.
So, I'm sorry. Sorry I couldn't be the kind of man you treated me like. I hope I can get it right now."
He stood, touched his hand to his lips, and grazed the top of the tombstone with his finger tips. "Bye, dear Joyce."
As he turned to leave, his eyes fell on a freshly sodded grave, with a small stone. He gasped. "No. Oh, dear God, no."