This is a third story idea I had. I couldn't leave it to drift out of my head into a graveyard of forgotten stories. So I write a one shot that I promise myself I will absolutely leave a one-shot until I have finished a story of mine. I will. At least I think I will. Well if I keep telling myself that maybe it will work. Okay, its official, I have no ability to write one shots because whenever I look at one I get this urge to try to continue it even if its another persons story. But I can't start this one yet. The best I can do is I force myself to ignore this one until I do finish a story. I'm doing something a little different this time. I'm going to try to write it all in first person. EEK! Scary thought. Tell me what you think.

Xxxxx

I have never thought:

"I want to die..."

But I've also never thought:

"I want to live"…

I just sort of… exist.

I always have.

I am happy. …. ….That's a lie. I have no family. I don't have any friends. I have no lovers. I don't know what it is too love and the one man I think I might truly love will never love me in anyway. If I am to die no one will remember or barely notice except to remark what a bother my passing was for them. Officially I'm dead to the world around me and how humorous is it that the official story is the truth? I AM dead.

I died six years ago in the line of duty. In a church that looks like a massacre took place with Satanist worshippers and bullets flying around me like some sick, twisted game of pin the tail on the donkey. I died then and here now I lay dying once more, this time in my room, silently and no one notices. They go on like life hasn't changed. Like I am not shriveling inside. It hurts. I'm drying out. Make it stop. A husk. Anyone make it stop. A former shell of the person I once was. I'm so tired. I am dying and living at the same time.

It's like being on a journey, an empty dirt road. No matter how tired you are you can't stop. I am incapable of stopping. I'm dying because of this road inside. I only vaguely remember what happiness feels like. Something about being warm and excited inside. I don't remember what smiling feels like. I can't remember what the sound of my own laughter is like, let alone of what a laugh is supposed to sound like. I don't feel the motivation to get up. Or really the motivation to do much of anything. I feel so tired. But it's not the regular sort of tiredness. Sort of like I feel worn out on the inside. All I remember is the pain in my chest that torments me.

And no one notices.

No one ever notices. That's a lie. I think master notices. He just doesn't care. I'm a disappointment to him, I think. So he doesn't care. He never will. I'm 'not good enough'. As long as he has something to kill and hate he is content. As long as he has his master he is fine and he cannot seem to wait to get rid of me. I try to ignore the cut I feel inside me at this knowledge. I know he regrets turning me. The cut grows and my eyes burn. I grit my teeth and force them back.

Sir Integra has noticed but she makes no comment. She never cared for me. I have always thought she hated me. I still do. I rather think if she had the motivation she would have me killed. This doesn't bother me as much as I think it should. I think the only reason she doesn't have me killed is because I don't rate her attention span. I'm too insignificant. I'm a bother to her. So she ignores me. It's okay. I'm used to that. I was 'kitten' to my old team because I was too timid and they always had to work extra hard because of me. They said they didn't mind because I was their little sister of the group. I think they were lying. I think they did mind and I think they resented me. I'm a bother to them and everyone around me. Why would they want me around?

Pip notices nothing and if he does he says not anything. He just tells bad jokes to try to make me laugh and cheer me up. He is so happy it only serves to remind me of my own misery. I don't go to visit him anymore. Then I noticed that everyone else is like pip; smiling and happy, with someone else. I don't go to visit anyone anymore. It hurts too much to see them all smiling together while, I, the weary traveler stand alone for eternity. I am never going to have someone who will love me I think. I hurt more than ever at this knowledge. Never is an awfully long time.

Walter seems to be the only one that cares. He asked me last week. Then again three days ago. Then again last night. I can't speak of it. It hurts. He urges me to talk with him and those are the only times I can even get a glimmer or remembrance of what smiling is like but it is gone as soon as it appears. I don't know why Walter bothers to try to save me. No one else does. I'm just 'not good enough' for them. I always have been a disappointment.

I'm nineteen. That's a lie. I'm nineteen only of body and twenty-five of mind. I will always be nineteen. In ten years. In twenty. In fifty. In one hundred. I will never change. I will never age another day, or a minute, or ever the smallest second. I see it in everyone else. Their hair line receding. A touch of gray or white here and there. Slowing of the body… they squint when they read words. They forget things. They start to have trouble hearing the words others speak. But not me. No. I'm like a rock, stuck at the side of the stream while everyone moves on without me in the flow of life. The weary traveler always and alone.

My eyes travel over the room listlessly. I would laugh if I knew how when I came to the realization that my room is as empty as I feel but laughing seems too hard to do. It's the same as always. Cold stonewalls, a clothing wardrobe, a table with two chairs and of course the coffin I lie in. the room was so dreary. Like I felt. I stared and after a while grew tired of looking at the walls. The remote is by my feet yet I can't seem to muster the motivation of energy to sit up or do much of anything. The walls start to grow annoying and I want to shut the lid but again the desire to move escapes me and I lay still with the annoying stone walls.

I close me eyes and listen. Lately my senses had advanced. Probably ever since I had gotten over my fear of drinking blood. I listen to the house groan as its wont to do like any old house. I listen as I hear someone on the first floor talking about their newborn in the family and how he is an uncle now. I ignore the pain and sense of longing in me at this. Especially the envy. I can't acknowledge the envy. I quickly try to focus my hearing on some other part of the house. I can hear the men in the barracks as they sleep and their heartbeats. The even breathing and the beds groaning as some tossed and turned. I grimace because I know what is going on, the men had seen too much and it had robbed them for every penny of their piece of mind as they slept at night. I can't tell which one is Pip.

I bite my lip and turn my hearing elsewhere. Thinking of Pip hurts as well. Finally I hear someone else besides the guards on patrol awake. It takes me a moment to realize but its Integra. Still awake and shuffling paperwork at this hour? I wasn't surprised. I was tempted to think she had insomnia. She always said she could sleep later and Walter threw fits over it. I rather wonder when she will get sick from a lack of sleep. Or when master will step in and put his foot down and carry her to her bed while she threatens him with her silver pistol. Whichever first happens. Master taking Integra to bed…

I squeeze my eyes shut in pain and ignore the jealousy in me. I am not jealous. I am fine. I'm fine. I am used to being snubbed and passed by. I always knew my master had an interest in her and she is why I will never have a chance with the one person I honestly say I could have feelings for. I sincerely think I love master but I don't know what love is. Worse is, I know what kind of reaction my master will have if he ever found out about my emotions. His disgust and disappointment towards me would reach new heights. I'm tired of being a horrible frustration to people but it's like I cannot help it. Everywhere I go something about me makes people disappointed in me.

Over the last couple of weeks there have been almost no missions other than ghoul outbreaks. Nothing that would require Integra to call for me or my master, apparently. So I haven't been called for or needed. Master doesn't seem to even visit me anymore like he used to. I don't understand. I drink blood, my strength has increased as well as my senses, yet his desire to be near me seems to have dropped to zero. I don't understand… I have improved haven't I? So why does he seemed so ashamed he wants to ignore me so badly? I curl up tight and the pain spread to my eyes and nose that start to burn. My eyes water and I squeeze them shut. No… no more crying… hadn't I proved my weakness often enough by crying?

Something touches my face and I jolt upright, mildly shocked that I managed to do so and more afraid that it's my master. I look over to see Walter who looks worried and angry. I look away and wipe my eyes before I look back to him. What is he doing awake? He speaks then, his voice is laced with frustration and anger, but slow paced as he tries not to lash out and keep his temper.

"Seras… this has got to stop. Please, I am your friend. I am worried. Won't you at least tell me what is wrong?" I consider his request. I know I am hurting him with this and for that I am selfish. But how can I admit my own idiocy for doing what I had done? I was stupid. No, I was beyond stupid. I had brought this onto myself and now I can only just pay the consequences by myself. I can't drag Walter into my misery just because he asks. I bite my lip. I cant look him in the eye because I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed of what I had done. It was a fools dream and yet I can't help myself. What is wrong with me? Complete idiocy and I had brought it on myself.

Walter tried again, softer than before because I think he can see the tears trailing down my face. "Seras… please?"

My body shudders in grief. I lie down and put my fists in front of my face. "You can't help me with this Walter. No one can." I know I am hurting him with my refusal.

"You don't know that. I might be able to help." Walter didn't know that this problem was something no one could help me. But im hurt and I feel like I need to tell someone and here is the last person on earth who seems to care what happens. And I'm nearly driving him away. Maybe I wouldn't be so bad. At least it's not master who knows. Walter wouldn't be disappointed in me?

"Alright…" I bite my lip and admit it too someone.