Title: The Letter
Author: parentaladvisory
Rating: PG-ish
Disclaimer: I own it. Yup, that's right… so deal with it.
B,
I miss you. There's no other way around it. I miss you so much that it seems as if it will consume me. I sit here thinking of you all day long. I wish for nothing more than to have you here with me. Now, I know that that wish will never come true. I screwed up; I'm willing to admit it now. I screwed up and don't deserve to be forgiven; I hope to Goddess that I will be, but the reality of the matter is that I really don't foresee that happening. I miss you so much I fear that the pain of it will kill me. Not seeing you, not speaking with you, not being near and close to you. Everything; the pain and sadness, the hurt and the regret; they're all there and they grow stronger everyday. I feel as if all of my feelings will consume me, swallow me whole, and kill me.
When I'm not with you it's like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, and the only way for the pain to subside is to be around you, to be with you. I hate showing feelings, you know this as well as I. Yet, I can't help showing how I really feel when I'm around you. You make me want to be a better person than I have ever been. I never deserved your friendship, and I know I never had your love. I wish that I did have your love, but I never told you how I felt. I had never been so scared in my whole life, that night. Watching my first watcher be tortured to death, going home to find that my mom had been killed, and almost being killed that same night; none of that compared to how I felt the night I killed Allen.
You have to trust that I never really meant to do any of it. I got caught up in the moment, my adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and I didn't think it all the way through. I heard you scream for me to stop, just as the stake pierced his skin. Yet, even with my slayer reflexes, I wasn't able to stop the stake from piercing his heart. I wish to Goddess that I had. I really do! He died by my hands. I'll always see his eyes as the stake ripped into his body, into his heart. Those eyes are burned into my head forever; I will never be able to wash his blood off of my hands. I realize that. I also take full responsibility for my actions.
As much as you think it can't be true, I have changed. After everything I have put you through, I only really have this letter to explain things to you. I'm so SORRY!!!! I know it doesn't mean much to you now. After trying to kill Angel, torturing Willow and Xander, after I had the chance to kill your mom (I'm so sorry she died. If things would have been different I would have considered her as the first real mom I ever had!), after I killed Allen, and all of the other people I have hurt, I don't expect you to feel anything but anger and revulsion, betrayal and disgust. I really am sorry, though.
I don't want to whine and say how horrible my childhood was, and I don't want to make it seem like it's the reason I went rouge, but the reality of the matter is:
My childhood was never that. Growing up I was beat, I was told after each hit that no one would love me, that no one should love me. After I'd regain conciseness they would tell me all the ways in which I was worthless, dirty, a whore, and deserved to die. When I was four or five I spilled a glass of milk on the kitchen table, one night during dinner; which, in itself was a rarity, what with my mom being gone all the time and wasting all the money on drugs and alcohol. She beat me till I could barely hear anything over the ringing in my ears. The one thing I did hear, though, was my mother saying that if I EVER screwed up again, that she would find me, she would hunt me down, and she would kill me.
Maybe that's why I went to the Mayor. He promised me protection; from my mom, the cops, the council, you, and most importantly protection from my self. At a very young age I took up cutting. It used to be the only thing that made me feel alive. It felt good to know that I was in control for once. I was in control of how deep I went, how long the cuts were, and how much I made it hurt. It sounds childish, but growing up it was the only thing that felt real. I knew that my family was different from other kids'. I would go to school with bruises, broken bones and cuts all over my body, from my parents and their friends. I didn't see any of my classmates coming to school with injuries like mine, not once, not ever! The teachers never asked what was going on, and I never told anyone about it. Not until now at least. I trust you, though, you my sister slayer. I trust you enough to tell you all of these things and it kills me to know you don't care.
I have a scar, one that you put there when you stabbed me in the gut with my own dagger. I don't blame you, not one bit, not at all. In many ways I'm glad you did what you did. You showed me that you hated me, just as much as I hated myself. You really did save me that night, though. It was as if my life became so clear after that moment when the blade slid into me, like a steak knife cutting through butter. I never felt the pain from the dagger. The only pain I felt after that was the pain I saw in your eyes. The pain caused by the fact that I betrayed you. After everything I had put you and The Scoobies through, I feel that I deserve every bad thing happening to me from now on. I will never forget the look in your eyes that night. It kills me to know that I have hurt you. It sickens me to no end.
I know we never really had a chance to become good friends. The night at the Bronze, you know which night I'm talking about. That night, I felt that we had shared something, anything, I don't know what it was but I know you felt it, too. There was something about that night that made me realize how much I wanted to be in your life, how much I wanted to be with you. When we were dancing I felt like everyone melted away and it was just the music, you, and I. Every time we brushed against each other a jolt of electricity was sent through my body. I had never felt that with anyone before. Nor have I ever felt that feeling since. We turned all the dance offers down, we only danced with each other. Through out the night we began to move closer to each other until we were grinding against each other. You made me feel. You made me feel like I had a right to live; like I actually meant something. That's why after the Allen incident, I pulled away. I was scared to death that you would want to kill me; that you would want to beat me for being a bad girl. I didn't think that I would ever live through that kind of torture. I am so sorry I didn't accept your helping hand. I know now that I should have.
I need to ask you for something. Something I know I don't deserve, and something I feel I will never deserve. B, Buffy, I know you don't like me, I know you most certainly don't love me. I know you probably haven't even finished reading this letter, being too disgusted to read further than the top line reading, "B". Yet, I feel I have to ask you anyways. Will you forgive me? I'm not saying you have to forgive me now or anything. I'm just wondering if you could ever forgive me. I really need to know, B, your opinion, your approval and forgiveness really mean the most to me right now. Not only because you're my fellow slayer, but because… I love you. Please, please write back. Write about anything you want, but please give me an answer either way.
F.L.
Incarcerated.