Title: Fractured Mirror 1/1
Author: FaItHzAnGeL
Author's E-mail: fivexangel@aol.com
Disclaimer: I own nothing; Joss is God.  Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters of are property of Joss Whedon, UPN, and all the other people who make the show possible.
Author's notes: This is in response to a challenge from "Challenge in a Can" where you can find at www.dymphna.net/challenge.
Feedback: Yes, please.  I thrive on it.
Distribution: If you like it, then go ahead and take it.  Just let me know where it's going so I can stand in aw.

Fractured Mirror     Dawn just stood there in her room...the room.  The spare room that the monks made hers.  It was never hers; it never truly would, would it?  She looked around at all her things; the stuff she loved to play with when she was little was in the closet, and her diaries she hid under the bed so Buffy wouldn't read them, the jewelry on the dresser.
    The things she stole and hid in the bottom shelf of her closet, and the smaller things in one of the bottom drawers of her jewelry box; no one even cared enough to notice – why would they?  She was just The Key.  A thing.  Not even human.
    Not even real.
    Buffy was the Slayer, all knowing encompassing perfectness despite all of her aimless walks through life; Buffy didn't even know who she was anymore.  At least they had that in common.  But Dawn glared, her lips forming into a sneer as she looked at herself in the mirror, enraged at the mirror before her: the long brown hair, her blue eyes, her thing frame – she was wrong.  She and Buffy had nothing in common.  At least Buffy had a purpose, a reason for being around.
    She didn't.
    She was alone.
    She was nothing.
    She wasn't real.
    She was a green blob that no one cared about, that no one wanted to be around.
    The glass of the mirror shattered as Dawn heaved with pain and tears streamed down her face, and the brush, which she had held in her hand, fell to the ground with a thud after having bounced off the mirror and she fell to her knees.  Willing herself to be real, to be normal.
    And for someone to care.