uDawn/uBr
Written July 15, 2001br
bSummary/b: Dawn journal POVbr
bDisclaimer/b: Don't own 'em.p
I never thought I'd be writing again. I didn't think I'd be able to. It's weird, though. It's like writing is the only thing keeping me breathing. Keeping me human. p

Giles says that writing this stuff down is good, that it's bad to keep feelings bottled up inside. I asked him what he was feeling, and he had this sudden urge to make a cup of tea.p
p
Everything is so… Don't get me wrong; Giles is great, but. I don't know. It's like, first Mom was gone, and then Buffy, and then our house. Giles' place is nice, but I wish I had something that was still familiar, something mine. You know?
p
I guess this journal is the only thing now.
p
Tara bought it for me. We've been talking a lot since everything happened. She's about the only one I can talk to. Willow and Xander try, and Anya attacks me with board games, and Giles makes tea. But for some reason, I can't bare to talk to any of them about anything real.
p
Tara's cool. She doesn't make me talk. Sometimes she talks, for hours. It's good. It's real. We talk about books, and witchcraft, and sometimes I cry. I don't want to, but I can't help it. Sometimes Willow comes in and she and Tara show me a spell.
p
On weekends I help out in the Magic Box. On weekdays I stay in my room. I don't like seeing people all that much. Seeing them reminds me that I'm not supposed to be one, and that Buffy sacrificed herself for someone who wasn't even supposed to be a someone. Just think. If I hadn't been… made… Buffy would still be alive right now. Probably laughing with Xander, or debating with Willow, or whining about how I didn't do the dishes… Oh, right. I wouldn't be here.
p
Every once in a while, Spike comes over, with some stupid excuse about his TV being broken and not wanting to miss Passions. Giles doesn't mind letting him in, now that he's kind of proven himself or whatever. Spike never talks about Buffy. But I bet he thinks about her. You can see it in his eyes, sometimes.
p
For a while after the funeral, he'd dissappeared. We thought he'd rejoined Drusilla for sure. Turns out it was good that he'd gone, because Angel came to town pretty soon after he heard the news. Willow had filled him in. I'm really glad I didn't have to be Willow that day.
p
He only came for the night. He didn't say anything, but I think it hurt him to look at me. That stung, but I understood it. I don't look at me anymore either.
p
Cordelia and Wesley came with him. Wouldn't you know it, Wesley's not such a dork after all. He's still a dork, but he's somewhat more standeable. Cordelia was really upset. I was surprised, because I know she and Buffy weren't all that close, but her eyes kept filling with tears every two minutes, and when she thought she was alone in the living room, she threw a coffee mug against the wall.
p
It was like Mom's death all over again. We all grieved. We all felt.. numb. Trapped. Unprotected. Angry. Too many emotions to list. And this time, there was no Buffy to handle the preparations. Giles did them all, and I could tell it really tore him up. But he wouldn't let me help. Actually, to be honest, I don't think I could have.
p
Xander and Anya came over before. Anya's new venture was Parcheesi, but luckily Xander talked her down to War. I can't believe they're engaged. It's like, everyone's a grownup now, and I'm stuck back here. It was kind of always like that, but I had Mom, and Buffy. Now I have -- what?
p
We all had kind of prepared for a new Slayer, and a new Watcher. But she never came. Which is sort of bad, since there are so many more deaths now that Buffy's gone. The others go on patrol sometimes, but they're really not enough. I try to go with them, but they never let me. I keep hoping that my Summers' blood will give me superpowers, so I can kind of take Buffy's place. Avenge her death. But it hasn't happened. I told Tara my wish, and she told me very gently that Buffy wouldn't have wanted a Slayer's life for me. I guess she's right, but that doesn't make things any easier. Or any more fair.
p
There's no easy way to got through this. Maybe someday it'll get better. That's what they said about Mom. Except that it didn't. It isn't. I don't think it ever will be.

pcenterubTHE END/u/b