Disclaimer: I DO NOT, repeat DO NOT own BtVS in any way, shape or form. (Except the loads of rectangles that contain my Buffy Videos.) It is owned ALL by Joss Whedon. (What a lucky man he is!) Please note: I am NOT Chloe Sanchez, she was an actual character off of Buffy and if you don't like my story, then tough luck as it is meant to be depressing…

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Part One

The day was cloudy, all sunshine extinguished by the blanket of grey covering Sunnydale. That is pretty much ironic I think to myself. I felt no hope of survival, I was in-training, and I was a potential slayer. This is the pitiful story of myself: Chloe Sanchez.

There is no right in my life, only wrong. I was once told by a girl called Dawn to look on the bright side of things, but she doesn't get it, there is no bright side, not in my life anyway, just people who pummel you down to the ground.

Buffy, the Slayer, believes in hope; she hopes to win the coming battles, but after everything that has happened to me, I believe the only reason why we live, is to die at the end of it.

It was 1994, when my parents disappeared; no-one knows what happened to them. But I do. Vampires murdered them. I was only four years old and evil scum killed them! The only happiness I will feel, is when I take revenge, come hell or high water I will avenge their deaths!

I doubt I will catch the vampires who did it though, as I said before; I don't believe in hope, only a possibility of succeeding. To avenge my parents' deaths, I will help in this fight, slayer abilities or not.

The potential Kennedy, makes me do push-ups in the mud, for getting a fighting move wrong. I'd like to see her do all of the training we have to. She thinks she's the boss, I'm an equal, I shouldn't be beneath her! She even thinks she has the likelihood of winning a battle against Buffy herself.

All the world and everything in it is trying to push me 6 feet under, eventually everyone will be anyway, so it doesn't matter. Now that was just my little nag on who I think the real bad guy is, now back to my dark story.

Six years after the deaths of my Mom and Dad, a guy walked up to me in the local ice-cream store. He talked with a strange British accent. He told me there was a possibility that I could be the chosen one, the next slayer.

At first I just thought he was an escaped Looney from the mental hospital. My friends believed me at least. After a while, I thought about it more and more, and I began to believe the legend of the Slayer.

The guy that was in the ice-cream store yet again bumped into me. He called himself a Watcher, but I could call him James Brent. He withdrew me from my schooling, and began to educate me in the way of Slaying.

He began to be the father I never had. It was just us two, my life as a loner was had taken-off, I lost contact with any friends that I might have had. The only one I had contact with was James.

Then five years on (present day) another Watcher called Rupert Giles, only just figures out I'm a potential, they thought I had no comprehension of what was happening. They thought I had no clue, but the truth is though, I know more than they all do. So he tells me the story of the slayer, the same one James would tell me.

What happened to James you ask? Well, when I was thirteen, the same vampires bit into his evermore bleeding neck and had drank until the blood-loss killed my Watcher. Why are those same vampires doing these things to me? What did I ever do to them? Maybe they realized that I would be a slayer and they wanted to weaken me, so that when I was imbued with Slayer abilities, it would be an easy kill. All it did was bring-about a stronger heart.

If you looked at me now, you wouldn't notice eleven years of external and internal damage. I won't describe myself to you, as I consider myself as hideous.

My existence is meant to have an early death. In some ways, I never wanted to be born. On the outside I look like a joyous child, ready to battle Turok-Hans but inside… the pain goes beyond screaming, it transcends the idea of hurt. I live inside a hell, a hell the creatures of the dark made.

In a way, that is worse than death. It makes you want to take your own life to end the suffering. I see no point in suicide, when I die; I want it to be a noble death, one where I might be remembered.

I think that the people who believe in hope are the real delusional ones. The fact is it is just a stage of denial. It isn't like it matters though, as I said before; in year's time we're going to be decomposing in caskets. I figure that I will be in mud or compost. This is my life up to now.

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To my Readers and Reviewers:-

I hope you guys like this story. If you're a reader of What Happens Next you will have noticed it hasn't been updated in a while, my energies have been focused on this story. This was a test chapter to see what people think before I put up part 2. (chapter 2). When Part 2 is up that means it is completed. It will include more characters off of Buffy, I promise… but you have to R&R.