Title: Sometimes
Author: WackyD
Summary: Anya evaluates her life.
Rating: PG-13
Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe. The pain is always there, pounding through the shards of my heart, and I can't think. I can't make it go away.
I don't matter to them. Never have, never will. I am zip. Zilch. Nada. Nothing.
Sometimes I wonder why I'm still here, but the answer is right in front of me. Xander.
Sometimes it's worth it when I spend hours on my hair, just so maybe I'll get a "You look nice today, Anya," from him. Sometimes it's not.
Sometimes I feel so lonely that it's all I can do just to go home and watch TV till my eyes burn and I'm lost in the meaningless babble.
I used to love looking at myself in the mirror. When I peered in, I saw Anya Jenkins, the mortal, Mrs. Xander Harris to be, the happy human with everything she's always wanted.
Now when I look, I don't know who I see. I am Aud. I am Anyanka. I am Anya. I am nothing.
I don't know what to do. I go over there to pretend I matter, then leave feeling worse than I did before. Do they think I don't know that they talk about me behind my back? That I don't know that they hate me?
Sometimes I feel like I'm falling into an endless darkness and I can never wake up.
If you look hard, you can still see the bloodstains on me. When I look down at myself, all I can see are the red stains of the people I murdered.
That's when I take a million showers, so the water can mix with the tears. But it never, ever washes out.
I want to do something, something so I can be forgiven and go to sleep forever. But even if I could, there's no one to forgive me.
I killed so many innocent people.
Sometimes it comes crashing in upon me, the enormity of all I've done. Sometimes I wish I could turn back time and undo it all, but I can't.
Buffy should have killed me. D'hoffryn should have killed me. Why I am alive and Halfrek is dead?
There's no one to talk to now, but I try. In long run-on sentences that are brittle and break when they fall upon empty ears.
Sometimes when Xander smiles at me I feel better for an instant, but I know it's not for me. I'm not supposed to be happy. I killed too many people.
Can they see the blood on my hands?
Sometimes I cry at night, such a very human thing to do. But then I am human now.
It doesn't help. Nothing helps.
Sometimes even I don't know what to say.
Author's Notes: I know it's a bit depressing, but I've been very unhappy with the way Anya's been treated in Season 7. Everyone's always being so mean to her! *sniffle* Oh yes, Please R & R. Comments, questions, and advice are always welcome, and you can always e-mail me at Wackydabber@aol.com.