A Slayer is a warrior.

Being a Slayer is being a fighter. Not to think of herself, only others. She has the power to fight against the darkness; to help the helpless. The hero on the streets every night. The chosen one.

I know what a Slayer is.

A Slayer was an arrogant fifteen year old girl that had life, and everything she knew of it, torn from her. A scared child that wanted nothing more than to be normal, never admitting to herself that it was ever possible. Because it wasn't.

Being a Slayer meant being a freak. Exteriorly normal, even seemingly beautiful. But realistically, a Slayer is none of those things. Just like all freaks, their true nature shines when least expected, or wanted.

Nearly staking a schoolmate, and seeing her shocked look of incomprehension.

Saving a date from vampires, and having him take a thrill in the ride. Not realizing how dangerous a thrill in a morgue can be.

Unfortunately I do know.

It is my destiny. I accepted it, along with all the sleepless nights in cemeteries. I have embraced it, with failed relationships and rejections.

At least I wish I did. I pretend that I do.

I had surrounded myself with what most would call freaks. Outcasts of society that are part of their own leper colony. I befriended them, or they befriended me, because they made me feel like I belonged when fate made sure that I didn't. They made me feel like I was like them. Though, I wasn't. It kills me to know that I never will be.

A Slayer isn't what you think. She isn't a warrior. A hero that needs no rest. A fighter that never losses.

A Slayer is just a girl trying to survive. I will tell you that most don't. I've known Slayers. Girls just like me. I wasn't suppose to know them. To feel any resemblance of acceptance. Normalcy.

The Slayers I've known didn't survive. One was lost to this monsters in this world. The other to the monsters in her mind. It's a tough thing to see those girls get the paths chosen for them, and knowing that they didn't deserve it. None of us do.

The hardest thing in this world...is realizing that you are a part of something bigger. And at the same time seeing that you're just another girl on the assembly line.

You'll want to kill yourself. That was proven last night. You'll want to just end life and have it be another girl's problem. I did. I bare scars on my wrists that I've never even shown my friends. I used to wonder if that was one of the reasons why Slayers healed so fast.

I'm no better than you, and I know what you all feel. The hardest thing that you will have to do is keep yourself alive. To survive.

A Slayer is what you all are. Not just Potentials. No matter the reasons or reservations, it is what you are. It's what I am. Whether freak, popular, strong, weak, scared, angry, or confused. There is one thing that will always be constant. The way you can sense a vampire's presence. The consistency of hurting everyone you love. You're face that grows a year when it's only been a month. The final acceptance that you were chosen to die.

That's what a Slayer is.