A/N: Ok, so I was in my bed sleeping peacefully . . . my boyfriend drooling beside me : ) heh. When I got the idea to post this story. It's kind of sad and I know I really should be working on Acting, but I just had to post this. Tell me what you think, it's kind of sad. It's a Buffy/Spike thing...I just love that relationship. It's written in a first person (my first, first person story) the bold, hopefully, is lyrics.

Faith

P.S. Buffy's not a slayer, Spike's not a vampire . . . they're just in love. Heh, I'm turning into a sap

Disclaimer: I don't own anything . . . yadda yadda yadda. The lyrics are Good Enough by Sarah Mclachlan

Rating: We'll try a PG

    Prettiness is just a factor that the world chooses to see. No one wants to see the ugliness in the world and yet we thrive and depend on it as if it is a will to survive. Look at the news, we never hear about the ones who won the spelling bee, or the ones who made a difference in someone's life. No, we hear about the child that got killed on the way to the spelling bee, or the people that try and kill the people that matter most in their lives. We surround ourselves with death and yet we are terrified of dying. We try and make potions that will make us last forever and elaborate products that will help us look and feel younger. Does anyone ever look forward to aging? No, because our society has made it so that everyone fears it.

    "I'm thinking about cutting off my hair. Just chopping all of it off, like, to my chin or something." I told my boyfriend while toying with a strand of my golden buttery locks.

    "You better not. You know I love this hair. The way it bounces when we, uh . . ." Spike said taking a piece of my hair and sliding it between his fingers

    I slapped his hand away making him smirk and said, "Now I'm going to chop it off just to spite you." He gave my hair a gentle tug and I just laughed.

    Spike looked at me as if her were trying to look at something inside of me.

    "What are you looking at?" I asked him

    "You. You're so damn beautiful." He looked at me lovingly and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. I hugged him and snuggled up into him. I had to give him credit for the scenery really. It was quite serene how the lake in the middle of the small park of lush green grass seemed to fit so perfectly well with the weeping willow try we were sitting under. It was the perfect, right out of a romance novel scene.

    I looked down at my watch and gasped at the time.

    "Oh crap. I have to go. My parent's are going to kill me." I said rushing to gather my things and leave

    Spike grabbed my arm and softly said, "Buffy wait, I want you to be careful. It's getting dark."

    I gave him a sly smile and replied, "Ah come on. You know me."

    "I know, that's why I said something."

    I grabbed Spike by the neck and placed a long hard kiss on his soft lips.

    "You worry too much." I called back to him as I ran back to my house before my parents murdered me.

    I walked through my big wooden door. God I love this house. It was built in the early 50's. Just knowing that someone important could have been standing right where I am . . . oh that's so cool.

    "Mom? Dad? Sorry I'm late." I called out into the seemingly empty house.

    I walked back to the kitchen to grab a soda and stopped at the scene that had been revealed in front of my eyes.

    My mother lay in front of me, blocking my way to the refrigerator, a knife sticking out of her abdomen. Her dirty blonde hair splayed around her head like a dark halo. Her beautiful green eyes shielded by her shut eyes.

    My mouth widened in horror and for a few moments I couldn't breathe. I ran upstairs to find my father. Even though I already knew the outcome I still looked and was still surprised at what I found.

    I ran into my parents' bedroom only to find my father lying in a pool of his own blood. One arm was lying across his stomach and the other was above his head. Blood seemed to be coming from everywhere; I couldn't tell where it had originated. As fast as I had come into the room I started backing away with my left hand covering my mouth.

    I ran back downstairs and out the door to clear my head.

..>

    As I walked back through my front door, my face blank, my right hand occupied with my bag of tricks, the stench of death is what hit me first and made me remember why I had fled the house in the first place.

    I walked into the kitchen, emotionless, to take one last look at my mother. Even when her soul and life is stripped from her, she still looks beautiful. Tears started to well in my eyes, and emotion started to cloud my thinking. I walked slowly to my mother, brushed a stray hair from her eye, leaned down, and kissed her gently on her lifeless, cold, cheek.

    I got up and shook feelings out of my head and walked upstairs to take a last look at my father. I sat my bag down by the garage and walked up the wooden staircase.

    As I walked the seemingly endless hallway to my parents' bedroom I thought that if I was in a better state of mind I would want to hunt down and kill whoever did this to my parents. As I approached the old wooden door, I opened it slowly. I looked at my father, and the tragedy that had become his death. I looked through sad green eyes, and as I had done with my mother, I kneeled down and kissed his lifeless forehead. My father looked at my through blue lifeless eyes as a single tear escaped my eye and splashed onto his chest.

    I pushed emotion from my head, walked to the garage door, picked up my bag and walked into the garage.

..>

    I turned the light on and placed a chair into the middle of the room. I took the rope out of the bag and looped it around the steel beam six feet above. I closed my eyes and remembered the conversation I had with the hardware man:

    "What do you need this much rope for anyway, little lady?" the fleshy middle aged man named Bob asked me

    "Camping trip. My family and I are going on a camping trip. We need the strongest rope you have." I answered sadly

    I felt the rope in my hands, the weight of it, and the rough sharpness of the straw colored thick rope.

    Don't tell me why

    I stepped onto the chair and fit the rope around my neck.

    Hasn't been good to you

    I thought about what I was leaving behind

    Don't tell me I

    My boyfriend, God I love him so much. My friends. I have such a good life. But my parents were my life.

    Haven't been good to you

    Without my parents in my life, I don't have anything

    Don't tell me why

    That's why I have to do this, no looking back, no emotions, just . . . .

    Nothing is good enough

    Jump

    I tried not to struggle as the life was sucked out of me by my own doing. I felt the life slowly slipping away as I hung dead in the center of my garage.

..>

    I was dead. My arms had gone limp, as had the rest of my body and I was starting to go cold.

    Spike came into the garage and saw me hanging. A hero, as always, he tried to save me. He grabbed a sharp implement and cut me down.

    So don't tell me why

    He untied the makeshift noose and tried, with wasted efforts, to get me to breathe

    He's never been good to you

    "Come on Buffy, please don't leave me. You can't leave me . . . we-we're gonna get married. God please, I love you . . . come back."

    Don't tell me why

    Spike begged and pleaded but nothing was going to bring me back

    Don't you know that why

    I was with my parents now and I was finally truly happy

    Is simply not good enough

    Spike sat in the middle of my garage, weeping as he held my cold body, trying to will me to come back

    So just let me try

    And I will be good to you

    "Baby come on, don't do this to me . . . "he sobbed

    Just let me try

    And I will be there for you

    He sat there for hours, clutching my lifeless body. He didn't understand that nothing was going to bring me back.

    I'll show you why

    You're so much more than good enough . . .

..>

A/N: And that is the end of my short story about suicide. Heh, I always write happy fun stuff. In case any of you are wondering why she did end up killing herself even though her life was so good, she killed herself because her parents WERE her life. If they weren't in her life, there was no reason to live, there was no . . . structure, so to speak. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed and be sure to review. Look for more little short stories of mine . . . maybe I'll write one with a happy ending one of these days : )

Faith