Buffy No More: The Illusion

by Sherann

This is a story I have been rewriting for seven years and I am almost still certain that it sucks. But whatever, here goes. The title reads "Buffy No More" and "The Illusion" and that is exactly what it is. I wrote a combination of short stories (that you can finish all in a day) that depicts a world and an existence without Buffy.

1. Chapter 1

At the break of dawn, I watched Dawn, the overworked housewife, picking up the toys off her lawn. She wanted to get to work on time, but those stupid toys out front always prevented her from doing so. It was too bad, the sad life she was living was because of her pathetic husband, Xander, who did nothing but drink beer and play video games. He never tended to their young daughters or mowed the lawn. Nope, he lugged his tall lump of flesh into the one-story home every evening delegating everything for Dawn to do. If she was the daring-type she would have cheated on him, nothing made a man more pissed then if he found his woman in bed with another man. If not that, she would've at least grown the balls to kick him in the balls, it's not like he didn't deserve it. But the thing was all that stuff wasn't a Dawn Summers thing to do, it was a Faith Lehane thing to do. Oh, and by the way I'm Faith Lehane or at least I use to be Faith Lehane. You won't get that little remark until later so it's best that you hold out till the end.

That morning, I woke-up like every morning that passed year from a recurring nightmare about the Forest-Alley. After I'd kick myself awake I would greet my mischievous neighborhood through the crack of my curtain. I would watch Dawn Summers in the morning the same way she would watch me later that night on her lawn (because we were the noisiest town ever born).

Always, around eight or so Dawn would lay out her blanket on the grass and pretend to be eying the stars when in reality she would be eavesdropping on William and I's daily throw down. Listening in, Dawn wouldn't feel the normal sympathy for my horrific marriage, but envy the passionate fights William and I had because they would always end in bed. The cute twenty-two year old medical admin yearned for this passion because she knew that she would never exhume anything close to that from Xander. Depressing I suppose, but only if she knew the truth. I would have given anything to be Dawn Summers and not have blood on my hands, to not worry about anything except kids, school and… coupons… I guess… I suppose. If she knew the deep loads of crap I was in she would never lay her blanket on her lawn to watch me ever again.

As I continued to peer out that transparent glass, I thanked God that William and I were able to retake-up residency in the small-town known as Sunnydale. We never really had to fake it because everyone there was (conveniently) as fake as we were.

I left the window when I saw Dawn pull off in her dented blue minivan. I wondered how I would spend this Friday. William was off to 'work,' and when I said 'work' I meant screwing around with some common whore. Mad? Not really, at least that's what I told myself. The only question I had was who was the trick this time? she must have been great to keep him out all night. Every time I thought of it I would instinctively grab the orange juice and vodka, mix them together, and call it breakfast.

I went out by the porch that Friday morning desperate to have a smoke with my alcohol, but then I thought that would give the little detective across the street another reason to call me completely insane. He already thought William and I did those crimes aka murders in Topeka. Detective Crate was slowly turning the whole town against us so smoking at seven in the morning could be the little thing that confirmed his suspicion. So I ruled out cigarettes and just sat out on the porch steps of my house drinking my OJ and alcohol. It was in this moment of meditation gazing on the perfected outside of Sunnydale I questioned my existence. I guess the real reason I moved back was because I felt I needed to get in touch with me again. Because sometimes I swore my nightmares were more real than my actual life.

Who am I?

I always questioned. Was I the bad girl with no conscience like everyone deemed it or was I something more? I always had the feeling I was something more… but hey, doesn't everyone.

My thoughts became distracted when Dawn's van rolled back into the driveway. Did she forget her notebook again? Dang, she always forgets her notebook? Just as I predicted, I saw Dawn zoom into her house and zoom right back out. She threw the book in the passenger's seat then stopped all motion once she saw me.

"Faith," she called out waving her hand, "good morning."

With a half smile I waved back, "Late for work again Mrs. Harrison?" She had a bright smile but it dimmed a little when I called her 'Mrs. Harrison.' It seemed as though she had a few minutes to spare so I approached her leaving my orange juice on the porch.

I leaned over on the hood of her rusted minivan. "You've been rushing around a lot lately, what's happening?" I asked. This was what I labeled as being normal. If the detective across the street saw me mingling with neighbors having a good laugh he was less likely to suspect me.

"Well you know the relatives are coming over," she told me. I could tell that she wasn't happy about this.

"Xander's relatives?" I suspected. I had no idea why she was with this dude, she secretly hated his guts.

"No actually mine… my mother's house is being renovated."

"Mother? Curly, sorta red brown hair, lives in the next block over?"

Dawn shook her head confirming.

"So if it's just your mother why you so upset?" I inquired.

Her face lowered and her cheeks lost their bright red color. "Can I confide in you Faith?" She took in a deep breath. "Um… so recently my mother got married."

"Oh… so that's the guy with the glasses she's always with?"

"Yeah they eloped, so quickly, and I don't trust him around me or my girls."

"Is he a petefile? Wouldn't be the first petefile to enter Sunnydale."

"That's the thing I don't know! I think my mother's having a midlife crisis. First she quits her job, goes away to London, then runs off and gets married to the first Brit she meets. She's gone insane. Not only are they coming to stay with us, but Rupert, that's her husband's name, is also having some friends over."

"Oh wow, so packed house?"

She shook her head again.

"I suspect they're gonna put you out, make you clean and make all the food?"

Dawn was embarrassed to say, but she timidly nodded her head. "I bet you never have to go through any of this?"

When she said that, I felt for her. Even though her problems were less than mine they were still her problems and they felt humongous to her. "Maybe your mom is having a midlife crisis," I started. "But she's living her life and you need to live yours, the life you want to live. Now do I agree with who she married? No. Take it from me those dudes from the UK can't be trusted."

"Oh but William seems… nice."

"You mean 'hot.'"

"Well, no, of course not-"

"Yeah you do. Please I'm not one of those jealous hoes, you can say that he's hot. But take another lesson from me. Bad boys are only hot short term, it's not hot when they get in your face, cheat on you and pick fights with you-"

"It's still better than what I have." That was the only comment Dawn said with absolute certainty. I let her have the last word even though I had much more to say. "I have to go to work."

Then she was officially off. Her mini-van pulled out and into the street. "Oh Faith!" She screamed from the driver's seat. "Are you headed to the ceremony for Detective Crate!?"

I responded quickly. "Yeah, since everyone's gonna be there!" Oh Yeah! I had forgotten all about that event. As Dawn zipped down the road and out of sight I thought, yes, another opportunity to show the detective that I was innocent. If he sees me at his ceremony he'd think I had nothing to do with the crimes in Topeka. Why would a guilty woman show up at a cop's ceremony? Crawling with cops!

So the plan was made, to the ceremony I would go to hopefully to clear my name and this world would hopefully, for the first time, be ok with me. Soon, I drifted off to sleep on the couch until I was dreaming.

In my mind, I arrived at a place I had been before.

My nightmares-terrible, but normal. I saw myself in a dark Forest with a whistling wind that could scare the boogie man away. My stomach was heavy with a vomit that wanted to run up my throat but couldn't. I would turn to my left and find Dawn. This seemed normal to me because Dawn lived next door and then William popped up, he was my husband, so of course both of them would be in my dreams. But then as I stood feet planted in the soil, Detective Crate, his wife Cordelia, Willow, Xander, Oz, some other unfamiliar faces would join in, until we all stood in the Forest. It was uncomfortable as any Sunnydale gathering, because seconds into this Forest get-together we would be crying-no sobbing. Tears, and tears, running down my face, with thick blood on my hands. I held a wooden stick covered with the dripping red. The stick sharp because I had obviously used it as a weapon. Lying on the ground was a girl. I knew this woman. But not in the way I knew everything else. She had a face like a China doll and hair that was shimmering blonde. In this part of my nightmare she was dead-butchered. And it was because of me. Me and everyone else standing in the Forest. Right before I woke, my mind would function as if it was confused so it would run through a montage of killings and demonic creatures that I only saw on shows like Supernatural. Then when it was all done I would be standing in this alley. Let me say it and then I'll say it again, I hated being in that alley, I hated being in that alley. And the craziest thing was I had no idea why I hated it or why I was even there. The butchered blonde girl would be alive in the alley staring at me with cold eyes. And whenever I would see her gaze I would kick, kick and kick. "Faith wake-up! Faith wake-up! FAITH WAKE-UP!" I'd scream until I finally did what I commanded. Like usual, I shot up from the cushion, my face dripping with sweat.

It was noon; jumping up from the worn couch I rushed to get ready. It was time to head to the shindig for Detective Crate. In all honesty, I was happy to attend. Taking a few hours to secretly hate all my fellow townees would surely get my frigid mind off the Forest and alley. My heart ran at a rapid pace as I made a beeline for the door. I still didn't understand why my nightmares felt more real than me. Why?

When I got in my car, all I had to do was follow the line of cars. Everyone was on their way there. It was a good thing because I was rattled and I had temporarily forgotten where Sunnydale High was. Yes, the alley and Forest were so terrible that I forgot where my high school was. When I finally arrived, I parked in the last good spot available. Hastily, I got out and stole a quick glance at the car window using it as a mirror. Hair was good. (I admired the die I used, apparently my hair could get blacker.) Soft, clear, lipstick; didn't want to look too much like a rebel. My midriff was covered and my eyeliner was a thin brown; I almost looked like a suburban princess.

After my check, I plowed through an interesting crowd of everyone who inhabited Sunnydale. Did this many people care about Crate? My God! My attendance had purpose, why were all these other people spending their lunch break here? Then right as I thought it, citizens passing by in private conversations told me why. The guys mumbled, "he's an outstanding human being, he saved us all." Oh yeah that's right Crate was the one who fished out that bomb. "Oh my God! Crate's the sexiest man in the universe," a hoard of high school girls gossiped. I had to agree with them, he was the exact definition of tall, dark and handsome, but he was also too clean-cut for me. It also wasn't a turn on that he was trying to arrest me for MURDER.

I was so deeply engrossed in thought that I didn't hear my phone dropping out of my pocket. A red-headed girl behind tapped the upper part of my leg to alert me. "Lady you dropped your phone," she said.

I smiled then turned back to her. I responded, "Aye thanks babe," in that 'mushy' voice everyone used to talk to children.

My smile immediately erased when I saw whose little girl it was. Red hair and a face that was super pale, she could only be the daughter of…

"Robyn! Robyn!" I heard a motherly voice calling from behind me.

I knew who it was instantly. Willow Rosenberg. She came to a halt when she saw me to flash the look of disdain. She wanted to pounce on me right then, but her daughter still stood in between us and so she sent her away to her father, Oz. Willow then turned her attention back towards me.

"So um they let school out early, I see?" I struck up an awkward conversation just to appear cordial.

"Yeah, ended my last class at 11:50," said Willow playing along with me.

"You and Oz, eight-"

"Ten years, ten years, we've been married. And you and William?"

"Going on our third," I answered stoically.

"Oh really? I seriously didn't expect you two to last that long."

And that was it, the little rude remark that sparked the flame. The little rude remark which sparked all our flames.

There were always people that hated me more than most, Willow was one of them. Her hatred started when I saw her making out with her secret lover, Tara, in the bathroom stall, so whenever she would piss me off I would remind her. "It's funny because Oz doesn't look like a girl. I mean he's short as hell-"

"Shut-up! You don't know me."

"Oh really?" I taunted throwing her slick insult back in her face. "Because by the look of it I know quite a bit."

"You haven't changed Lehane. You're still no good."

"You think that bothers me, 'No good,' is on my ID card."

"Well now you can add another word to your ID card. 'Murderer.'"

"I didn't kill anybody." I got a little closer and my eyes got a little deadlier.

"Of course you didn't," she sarcastically laughed.

"I have the nerve-"

"To what? Start a fight with me. Listen, I know exactly why you're here, you want to make a good impression. I'm telling you now, if the top suspect hits an innocent mom that won't bowed well for you."

"I'm telling the truth." I caught my eyes wanting to cry but I quickly recovered.

Willow laughed ominously. "Isn't it funny? Our lives turned out exactly the way the yearbook predicted. I became a loving teacher/wife, Xander's a pathetic UPS comedian with his miserable wife Dawn, Cordelia is ruling the world with the most eligible bachelor, and give it time and you'll be an A1 felon. I guess high school really does set the pace for the future."

She walked away and I did nothing. Our meeting ended on a flat note. No fist were thrown, no cuss words were said, I just walked away afraid of looking vulnerable. I felt exposed after, I felt everyone was looking at me, blaming me, accusing me. In my bones a shiver was ignited and I suddenly felt that I couldn't avoid life in prison; that my crap would land me in a permanent spot behind steel bars. My life would amount to nothing more than someone who squashed their potential.

My sight found Willow again, she ran into the arms of her dwarf garage rockstar husband, Oz. To think, I went to school with both of them. I witnessed how Willow went from the innocent little jew kissing girls to being one of Sunnydales cutest high school couples with him. Ugh! Willow! I hated that little closet lesbian, she somehow possessed the ability to push me off the edge every time.

The ceremony began, and I found myself skimming the list of negatives in my brain deciding to dump each off to the side until I cried myself to sleep later that night. I inched myself closer to the front as the audience applauded louder and louder.

"Detective Liam Brenton Crate!" The mayor of Sunnydale introduced after a pointless speech about community, then the man of the hour came up with his bride. Crate had on a fitted police uniform filled with silver and gold. His hair was whipped to the side and his face was clean. He looked beautiful. The first thing he did was flash his perfect relationship in front of the world by kissing his trophy wife, Cordelia.

Cordelia. Yeah, I had a little story about her being played in my mind at that moment. She was in the same class with Willow, Oz, Xander, and I. You guessed right, she was Miss Popular; it made my stomach churn with disgust to see her life turned out perfectly just like her dear old daddy dreamt it. She wanted to be the center of the town and now she was. She wore a baby pink dress like she wore her prom dress, to perfection.

She sat off to the side as Detective Crate positioned himself at the podium. "Please, don't clap for me. I was just doing my job. That's what all of us on the force try to do when we get in," Crate began. "I am honored to be a part of a loving town like this and I just wanted to let everyone of you know that I live to keep you safe and I'll die to keep you safe. I mean that." Then he ended bowing his head. I live to keep you safe and I'll die to keep you safe, such a boy scout, such an Angel. I mentally confirmed that that would be my name for him, Angel.

The ceremony wrapped up quickly after that. Through my foggy vision glazed with tears I watched Cordelia link her arm with the Angel. They disappeared into a crowd, smiling, and kissing one another. Willow stood beside Oz clapping and laughing at the same time. The family of redheads looked like they belong on the front page of a catalog. I knew I was in bad shape when even Dawn's family was playing the role of happiness well. Her two girls were in sundresses galloping in a horde of bubbles. Xander, her idiot husband, had his arm draped around her while also holding her mom. Her mom's new husband Rupert was chatting it up with locals about something worth giggling about like he had been in Sunnydale for years. And there I was-I didn't even have a person to look fake with and that was the most depressing realization of them all.

Nobody wanted to associate themselves with me and no one wanted to be near me. It was as if I had a disease that naturally turned people away… maybe it was because they knew the little secret about me possibly killing someone… or maybe it was because I was the one with the loser husband who slept around. I mean everyone was at the gathering except for William and My God! he didn't even bother to call and say he was alright. I was crap to everyone, even to the ones who sorta cared about me. The crowd began to leave and like a dork I stood at the center of the Sunnydale High lawn. My feet were plastered to its ground and I could not even attempt to move. I didn't want to return home so I sat in a place where I could find some serenity. Instead of thinking nice thoughts, my head wandered to my nightmare of the Forest. In the moment, I could vividly see the blonde girl, her flesh ripped apart, her eyes dim.

Hastily, I pulled out my phone. 'Blonde girl murdered,' I typed into the Google search engine, but none of the girls looked close to the one in my dreams. I tried to talk to myself. What are the odds Faith? What are the odds that you and all your enemies, neighbors, and family got together and killed a girl in a Forest? I nearly succeeded in convincing myself, but my attempts were always thwarted by a bad gut feeling.

While in my deep thinking, a sweet child interrupted me. He looked about ten, smooth brown skin, Indian-descent with an old pair of clothes on. He didn't have to say a word, I already was searching for his mother, but the school yard was deserted. "Hey kid, where's mom?" I asked him.

My face was twisted and red from basking in the sunlight for too long. Then he brushed past my cheeks with his palm. Weirded out, I shook upon touch and instantly became mesmerized by his shocking pink eyes.

"Don't worry, there is no need to worry about murders in Topeka."

I would have been surprised that he knew this fact about my life, but the truth was everyone sorta knew. Although, I was surprised that people were telling their children. "Maybe you should go home kid." I told him.

"I have no home and neither do you. You are just a placeholder, someone who is not real and in a few days your identity along with your lost memory will be returned."

So in my life I heard slut, hoe, and killer; these were all words that were used to describe me. But never had I been called a placeholder and unreal. I chuckled at him as he gazed blankly at me. "I think it's time to go back to mommy kid?"

"I have no mother. This is an illusion."

The word "illusion" left a bitter taste in my mouth even though I wasn't the one to say it. I couldn't detect if it was an insult or a kid just being super confusing. I had plans to address him but, my sight shot away for just a second and he was gone.

Spooked a bit, I ran back to my car. I didn't think twice, I cranked up my Honda and went on a useless drive going around in circles. The Indian kid went at the top of the list when it came to freaky, but the encounter was the least of my problems. I wondered if my presence at the ceremony made a difference in anyone's mind. I wondered if William was alright. I knew he was cheating, but he could have at least called, sent a text or something. Every time I went for the road my house was on I made another swerve in the opposite direction. I then started to think about the Forest and then the alley way, which always took up at least two hours of my life.

When I arrived home it felt like I had only been out for a minute. The pitch black sky said hours. Dawn had already began to pull out her blanket on her lawn.

I wasted a day cramped up in my old Honda dreaming of a blonde girl murdered in a Forest. I still was thinking about it when I entered my home. The only thing that broke me out of my horrid trance was the horrid smell of sex. I can't describe what sex smells like-maybe it's more of a feeling. I stood at the tip of my feet attempting to come up with a different conclusion, but I couldn't.

It had to be William.

Racing to our room, I swung open the door and found him sleeping, he was bare underneath the sheets, fast asleep-both of them-silly him; he didn't even realize that I had stepped into the room. Was he with some whore? No, well, let me rephrase that, he was with a whore, but just a high-class one. Cordelia: Detective Crate's wife. You scored big this time babe, congradu-freakin'-lations! I stared at them, just for a little bit. Her perfectly smooth caramel face rested on his chest. She was no stranger to his chest. They had done this before. All this time I had been sleeping in the same bed as the demon cheerleader, sharing the same chest as the girl who outcasted me and betrayed me. Oh… the… irony. Did I throw a temper tantrum? No, I guess William had his reason. I was willing to bet that this was his little plan for not getting arrested. The Angel Detective Crate would stop his little investigation if he thought his wife would be labeled a tramp. Good plan honey, good plan.

I crept out, not wanting to disturb them. Out the door I went, the tears skydiving off the rims of my eye lids. Across the street I ran, until I ended up in front of the Crate's residence. I banged and slammed my fist on the detective's door. Crate opened up and he had on a white beater and some pajama pants. In his hand was a cup of orange juice with vodka in it. He saw the tears tumbling off of my cheeks. I would never forget what he said next, "So it's true." I think the reason why this experience was so memorable for me was because he carried his same stoic expression, he wasn't the slightest bit surprised that his wife was a cheater.

"I want you," I uttered in a menacing tone. "I want you to get your wife out of my bed."

Instead of complying with my demands he simply stepped aside inviting me in. Almost instinctively, I did and ventured into the living room that smelled like assorted candles and cigarettes. "You smoke?" I couldn't help to ask.

"When I'm stressed, yes," Crate answered straight. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No." I answered bluntly. "How ya gonna handle this?"

Leaning on the counter, I saw the shift in his eyes that went from depression to seduction. The transition was obvious, because I utilized my eyes in the same way. The eyes: the most complex part of the body, the one part that spoke without much movement or sound. "How do you want to handle this?" He said to me and I knew exactly what he meant.

The most powerful emotion, revenge, nothing brought about more affliction and destruction than revenge, in that moment revenge felt good, so right.

"Do you know what you're doing?" I asked him. I knew what I was about do, but I had no time to fool around with boy scouts and Angels.

Detective Crate smirked and nodded his head. Then, I ran into his arms like he was the only source of security, and I tugged on his clothes like he was a life line. My lips collided with his, we skipped past all the cute stuff and went right in. My eyes were open and they fell upon his bedroom off in the distance. I wanted that bed. I wanted to take back what Cordelia stole from me. I wanted her to unknowingly at night sleep in a pile of me and I wanted the scent of Angel to engulf me so when William laid on my chest, he would smell it. Hungry for it, I kissed him deeper and closer to that bed. Giving in, my eyelids fell shut and finally I began to buy into what I was about to do, but when I did my mind drifted to the Forest again. I was in the Forest again with that bleeding girl.

"NO!"

I screamed with everything within me and I violently broke apart from Crate pushing him into the wall. I was crying, wailing almost, as if I committed a crime. Crate stayed plastered to the wall wondering what he did to set me off. I darted out of his place, back across the street; I went not realizing there was a car speeding down the road. It came to an immediate halt before it ran me over. Collapsing on the hood of the vehicle in complete shock I caught a glimpse of the driver, a disturbed Willow Rosenberg. Before I knew it I was being whisked away by another neighbor, Dawn Summers, who caught everything first hand from her blanket on her lawn. I didn't have the strength to push Dawn away or to scream "NO!" when she grabbed me from the car hood and into her arms.

"GO!" Dawn commanded, telling a remorseful Willow to drive off. Willow hit the gas and flew forward out of sight.

Dawn took me into her house. My legs were spaghetti trying to keep in step with her. Entering into her place was a blurred vision. She was having some sort of a house party. Ahh… that's right, her relatives were there. Through the cracks of my eyes I saw everyone looking at me. Xander was in his flannel shirt, beer in hand, peering at me. "What's up with Faith?" He inquired.

Off to his side were Mr. Giles, her step-father, and his friends' Wesley and Winifred Wyndam-Pryce. Then in the kitchen was her mom and I heard her say, "Dawn what's wrong with that girl?"

"She just had a little bit too much to drink," Dawn covered up for me.

"That explains it," Xander responded with a sense of obviousness. I just continued to whimper. I couldn't remember a time I was more distraught.

The next thing I knew I was in Dawn's room lying on her bed.

"Dawn." I said, staring into the pretty yellowish orange color the light was making on the ceiling. "Thank you."

"No problem," she stuttered.

It didn't take long for me to recover physically and I shot up from her bed. "I have to go."

"No. Stay." She told me, not wanting to sound forceful, but she did. "Relax, you might kill William if you see him and you don't want to go back to the Detective's house I'm sure, so you stay here, or I mean you can stay here."

I slowly took a seat back on her bed.

"Your folks don't mind?" I inquired.

"I don't care if they mind or not. You're my friend."

I jumped back agasp. "I am?"

"Yeah, you're… how do I say? Cool. And you don't have to worry about anything your secrets are safe with me."

"Ok." I replied.

"We can just sit in silence, until you're better and then when you're alright you can go back-"

Then a switch flipped in my battered confused brain; an overwhelming, disturbed Faith finally arose after I had pushed her down for so long. "I don't want to sit in silence." I said in a commanding tone.

"O...K…" Dawn stuttered in confusion. "What do ya-"

"I need to tell you what's going on."

"Ok."

"Because if I don't…" I cried. "I'm afraid that the truth along with the lies will eat me alive."

The mother of two jumped onto the bed I was sitting on. "Spill." She was all ears.

"We never murdered anyone; William and I. When we got married we hooked up with Odell and Tracy for one night!"

"So you do know them?"

"Yes, but we only did petty theft with them. Just one job so we could get an edge, a thrill you know. Then shortly after the cops were asking if we killed those people. My guess, Odell and Tracy turned the blame on us..." I went off my words crying again.

Dawn took me by the shoulders. "You're not a killer Faith. I knew that you weren't before you told me. I knew the rumors weren't true. You were just with the wrong crowd, it could have been any of us…"

"But what if I am?"

"You told me you just did theft?"

"No, I murdered someone before that, I had to have had."

"Why? What happened? I don't understand."

"I've been having the same nightmare over and over again and it's only getting worst."

Dawn was getting scared, but she kept her composure. "Alright calm down and um… tell me."

I did as she said and I calmed myself. "I keep having this nightmare where I'm in a Forest. We're all there standing over a murdered girl's body. Then after that I am in some alleyway and I'm dress like a slut. I'm young. I have this piece of wood in my hand and I stab a man with it. He slowly dies, his blood on my hands. The worst part about it, there's the murdered girl again, I've never seen her a day in my life. I didn't mean to kill the man, it doesn't process as murder yet, but it's when I look at that girl, her face disappointed, appalled, surprised… I begin to feel the full weight of what I've done. It's so real to the point that I say it had to have happened. Whether it was the Forest or the alley I know I had to have killed someone. I just don't remember."

"I understand."

"No you don't."

"But I do." Dawn tucked her foot underneath her other leg finding some kind of comfort in what she was about to reveal before it even came from her mouth. "I have nightmares about the Forest, but that's because of that high school trip into Macromby Woods that we all had to take annually-"

"But these woods are different-"

"No Faith they're not. Everyone has nightmares about those woods even Xander. And as for the alley. I think we all have an alleyway-a recurring nightmare that doesn't go away. Every night I have a dream about a man with glasses; he has a knife in his hand. I'm at the top of some ledge bound by rope crying and that's when he begins to cut me."

I knew what she was saying was true because she started to tear up and I couldn't believe sweet Dawn had dreams such as that.

"My blood begins to drip, and here's where it gets weird. As my blood drips a portal of some kind opens underneath me. Demons of all kind escape from it and as I watch them escape I come face to face with what I really am, evil. That's when some girl comes to me, I can't see her face through my tears, she says something to me that makes me cry and then she jumps off the ledge leaving me distraught. It's not so much the nightmare that scares me it's the way-"

"You feel. Like you've been there before. THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!"

"I call them feelings from another life. But when it's all said and done I remember that this is my reality and the nightmare isn't real, it never happened. Repeat after me, the nightmare isn't real, it never happened."

Then I repeated, "It's only a nightmare it never happened."

We shared a hug and it was the best form of love I had ever received. I completely ignore the fact that her words of encouragement sounded too rehearsed, like she had spent a good part of her time trying to convince herself of this as well.

It was only a nightmare and it never happened. I repeated mentally for comfort. Dawn was right… partially, it was a nightmare, the stabbing, the girl's brooding eyes, it was awful, but I was about to learn that it did, indeed, happen.