Also contains violence, strong language, and adult content.
Oh, and sadly, none of these character belong to me, nor am I making a profit off of them.
Prologue
They say that before you die your life flashes before your eyes. I don't know about that. I do know that you get this new hazy kinda clarity, though. Sort of like everything in your life that you've fucked up suddenly makes sense and at the same time nothing makes sense. Knowing you're going to die is knowing every single step you've taken to get to that point and knowing that it's too late to get out of it. And you know, maybe it sounds selfish, but when someone's out to kill you all that really matters is saving yourself.
Because it's too late to save her. You killed her after all. Oh, sure it was
an accident, but it happened anyway. And you tell me, what would you do if one
moment you suddenly found your hands stained with the blood of the one person
that made this world worthwhile? And it was just a fucking accident. So what
comes after that? After you've lost your reason for being? It was all for her,
anyway. Maybe it wasn't the right way to go about things, but she'd never have
come back to me, no matter how much I loved her. No, I was the one at fault
because, well why? Because I'd left my own creation in order to be with her?
She wouldn't even talk about it. She didn't even try to understand. It wasn't
as if I'd made her while we were together. I'd just been lonely before I met
her. But she didn't care about how I had felt. How I'd been kicked around my
whole fucking life. It was all about her. Stupid bitch. She really did deserve
it anyway. I should have known she was going to be the death of me. Because
I killed her. How ironic.
You know another thing about death? And here I'm going to get specific because
most people aren't tortured to death by magical lesbians, but it's something
I think I ought to point out anyway. It hurts. It hurts a whole fucking lot.
You know, I've heard things about people shutting down and not thinking about
the pain. You know what? It's bullshit. And if you had someone driving a bullet
into you in slow motion, you'd beg for your life too. You'd do whatever it takes
to make the pain stop.
That's all I wanted. I just wanted the pain to stop. They're all the same though.
Just kick you when you're already down. Cause more pain when all you want is
a way out. When you're so lost and confused and you just want someone else to
know how it hurts. You want to make them hurt, make them feel it. How else could
they understand? It doesn't even matter who. They all needed to feel what I
felt. Did it work though? Maybe, but none of them could really understand. No,
because they're so much better than I am. I'm just that creepy kid that everyone
ignored. For chrissakes, I think Jonathan was more popular than I ever was and
they never even accepted him. Willow and Xander...I hear they used to be nice,
though imagining this psycho-bitch as ever being nice is pretty fucking hard
right now. Then I'm sure Buffy came along. Their Slayer. Their bodyguard. I'm
sure that's when they started to think that they were so much better than everyone
else because they had a nice peice of ass to follow around like lost little
puppy dogs.
God, it hurt so fucking bad, I would have offered to build that bitch a whole
fucking harem of mousy girlfriends, but I couldn't even say that because she'd
sewn my mouth shut. A thousand thoughts were racing through my head, none of
which I could voice. I thought about how sorry I was. How sorry I was for what
I'd done to April. How sorry I was for what I'd done to Katrina. I really did
love her. She didn't deserve it, she deserved better than me. She should have
had someone better than me. I should have given her that chance. I was sorry
for trying to kill Buffy, for believing in my own stupid games because I had
nothing left for me in reality. I was even sorry for what I'd done to Willow.
For what I'd turned her into. For what I'd taken out of her life. I was sorry
because I'd finally gotten someone to feel the pain that I felt. I was sorry
because I'd pushed someone to that same edge that I'd been pushed to and now
I was paying for it. I never meant for it to happen this way. If I could take
it all back I would. I really would. She let me speak and I try. I try to tell
her everything that I've realized, I try to tell her that I'm sorry. I just
want another chance. One more chance.
She never let me finish.