So… I feel like a Very Bad Writer. I really SHOULD be working on my TVD multichapter; but I didn't feel like writing these last few weeks, at ALL. I even have a more or less good excuse for that: I had radiation, and surgery and an overall unpleasant month. Cancer sucks, people! Either way… I'm getting better now, and thought I'd give writing a shot again. Started out with this old piece here. And it IS old! Written it three or so years ago – in German. So I translated it like… two hours ago, and am now waiting to see if you guys are going to like it!
Now, I've had no beta-reader for this one, so each and every single mistake belongs to moi.
I also am going to ignore the entire last season of Angel for this one!
Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing. Joss is God, I am nothing *sniff*.
On with it!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The black DeSoto sped down the Highway at breakneck speed, Metallica's Master of Puppets roaring out of the windows so loud, it drowned out the sound of the motor altogether.
On the driver's side sat a frail-looking blonde woman; tapping the steering wheel in time to the beat of the song, whipping her head to the rhythm.
Her face seemed relaxed, her green eyes held an amused sparkle – so much so, that it was closer to madness than to sanity.
Every now and then she let out a heartfelt laugh, as if someone sat beside her, telling jokes without pause; and every time that happened, she pressed her foot down harder onto the gas pedal, wishing to reach her destination sooner.
Sometimes her one hand stretched to the side, casually grabbing a – by now nearly empty - bottle of Jack Daniels, swallowing the liquid down like a pro.
After what seemed like an eternity to her – but hadn't been more than two hours since she sat foot into the car – she could see a crater slowly drawing nearer.
Only moments before she went over the edge of it, she stopped the car, tires screeching, leaving the odor of burnt rubber in the air.
Looking up into the sky she sighed, and then slowly stepped forward to look down into the sheer of what had once been Sunnydale.
„Weird, isn't it? I sacrificed what should have been the best years of my life – preventing apocalypse after apocalypse… and what do I get for it? Nothing, nada; only a big hole in the middle of nowhere."
She looked to her right, waiting for an answer that never came – she sometimes forgot that no one was following her around anymore.
She sat down, slowly, wearily, and let the past few months dance before her eyes once again.
The ‚demise' of Sunnydale at the forefront of it all.
She remembered how it was to look down into this big-ass nothing for the first time; seeing disbelieve in the eyes of her friends, her family. The First Evil gone, the Hellmouth closed – for good. And Buffy, no longer The Only One.
Every single one of them couldn't do anything else then think of the future that lay ahead. Bright, new and oh-so-shiny and free.
She had done the same thing; right then and there... after all, she had always been fond of shiny things. Until Dawn had asked what would happen now, and she couldn't think of one fucking thing she would really like to do.
'Yeah, what do I do now? I don't have to be The Slayer anymore… but what else do I have? No money, no real education, no place to go.'
She thought of Angel, at first. He would take her in, sure; but whatever for? She couldn't live off of her vampire ex-lover for the rest of her life.
‚Oh well, I can think of what to do later.'
And that's exactly what she had done. Thought until there was smoke coming out of her ears… well, figuratively speaking, anyway. And she never came to any conclusion, so she had tried different things. Went and helped Giles with the new Slayers.
Spent time with Xander, who always seemed a little lost without Anya by his side.
Tried to seem interested in Willow and her magic; took care of Dawn, like a real big sister, and not just a Slayer, taking care of a human being.
But no matter what she did, everything left a stale taste, not satisfying in the least.
And every night, when she went to sleep, she could hear the words of that night again.
The night, in which her friends had kicked her out of her own house; the night that finally opened her eyes to the truth.
She hadn't been seen as a friend, big sister, protégé – even a human – in a long time.
The only thing that people saw when they looked at her was The Slayer. The moment she had realized that, she had turned on her heels, and left. Never had she felt so small and miserable before – until he came along, wanting nothing else than to help her; to be there for her. She had been sleeping in his arms the whole night, safe from all her nightmares and feelings of rejection.
After that, everything went way too fast. The explosion, finding the scythe, Caleb's death, Angel… everything happened as if fast forwarded. And then came The End. Sunnydale, nothing but a memory; and her knight in black leather, who had hunted her fears away, buried underneath it, nothing but a pile of ashes.
But she just went on with her life, as if nothing bad had happened; and still, she ended up here, in front of the shambles of her of her sanctimonious existence. What else could she do? Spike had once told her that every Slayer got killed by a death wish, sooner or later. Once upon a time, she had thought him crazy for that. But… after dying, waking up again and always always fighting, she found he's been spot on. There was nothing left for her in this new world. More times than not, she felt like a relic of times-long-gone.
As she caught herself in the midst of these self-pitying thoughts, a bitter smile edged over her lips and she finally came to her feet again, walking back to the car.
For a moment she looked at it, full of pride – it had been quite a feat to find exactly that exemplar – before she sat behind the wheel again.
The motor howled to life once again, and she put the car in reverse – and stopped again a few dozen feet later.
One last time she took a deep breath, and then she pressed the gas pedal down as far as it would go. With a freed smile, and a silent "home sweet home" she sped over the edge, right down into the abyss.
Hours later – the car had burned down long ago – two shadows emerged from the dark. They walked hand in hand in the direction of the slowly rising sun; one of them with long hair and a petite figure, the other with a long, billowing coat.
Xoxoxoxoxo
Right, that's it. I KNOW it was short, but… well. I gave it a try, right? I think that should count for something^^. Now it's your turn guys so… just click on the little button below and let me know what you think. Reviews are love, people!
So long,
Zora
