-- Dawn
"Cereal!" Xander bangs around the kitchen with false cheer I was expecting from everyone who can't understand and doesn't want to try. Read: Buffy's- dead-Dawn's-here-oh-no-what-do-I-do. It's ok that he doesn't get it, but it's not ok that he doesn't get it and acts like a goofball to cover up.
"I don't want any," I call through the barricaded shut bedroom door, aware of my petulance, aware that I sound like the kid I never will be. Stupid monks. Stupid Glory. Stupid, stupid, stupid Bu--
"Cornflakes or sugar puffs?" he sing-songs through the door. "Not taking a no for an answer!
Speak now or forever be condemned to this annoyingly chirpy note in my voice!"
I open the door a millimetre and eyeball him through it. "Xander. I. Don't. Want. Any."
"Spoilt brat," Anya says, loudly enough for me to hear. "Where's the gratitude?"
"Screw that," I mutter, and close the door.
"Anya..." They leave me to walk into their world of mumbled reproaches and angry rebukes. I don't care about them, anyway. Xander thinks that death goes away if you don't talk about it, and Anya... well, it's gotta be two millennia since her family died. So maybe her skin's good for her age, but I doubt she can remember what it feels like to be bereaved.
I've caught Xander looking at me funny a couple of times. I think maybe he's wondering how something that isn't really real -- a 'key' -- can have feelings. I can't figure it out either, and I don't really want to. All I know is it hurt yesterday, it hurt today, and it'll hurt tomorrow -- and maybe that it'll never go away, that I'll always be able to see Buffy jump, but worse... that I'll always be able to see Buffy land.
Or maybe Xander is thinking how unfair it is that I lived and Buffy died. Been down that path once or twice, but it stings the eyes and burns the heart to think about it. How she was this beautiful brave Slayer who saved the world (a lot) and I'm just some gawky teenager who doesn't even really exist except inside people's heads, and how if the world ends now everyone will be looking at me and thinking it's you, your fault, if you'd died instead maybe Buffy could save us all.
I don't know, but I don't want to think about any of that. Because the world is gonna end one day, you know, and Buffy really won't be here to save us, but I can't really think about stuff like that. What I do think about is Buffy, and how stupid she was to kill herself for me, to kill herself for a random piece of her memory that she thought she loved. I loved her, but she was stupid to do that, and it might be selfish of me, but I find it hard to forget.
One day I'm gonna wake up and forgive her, and that might be the day I wake up and it doesn't hurt any more. I like to think of that day, and I hope it's soon, but one thing's for sure. It ain't gonna be tomorrow.
"Cereal!" Xander bangs around the kitchen with false cheer I was expecting from everyone who can't understand and doesn't want to try. Read: Buffy's- dead-Dawn's-here-oh-no-what-do-I-do. It's ok that he doesn't get it, but it's not ok that he doesn't get it and acts like a goofball to cover up.
"I don't want any," I call through the barricaded shut bedroom door, aware of my petulance, aware that I sound like the kid I never will be. Stupid monks. Stupid Glory. Stupid, stupid, stupid Bu--
"Cornflakes or sugar puffs?" he sing-songs through the door. "Not taking a no for an answer!
Speak now or forever be condemned to this annoyingly chirpy note in my voice!"
I open the door a millimetre and eyeball him through it. "Xander. I. Don't. Want. Any."
"Spoilt brat," Anya says, loudly enough for me to hear. "Where's the gratitude?"
"Screw that," I mutter, and close the door.
"Anya..." They leave me to walk into their world of mumbled reproaches and angry rebukes. I don't care about them, anyway. Xander thinks that death goes away if you don't talk about it, and Anya... well, it's gotta be two millennia since her family died. So maybe her skin's good for her age, but I doubt she can remember what it feels like to be bereaved.
I've caught Xander looking at me funny a couple of times. I think maybe he's wondering how something that isn't really real -- a 'key' -- can have feelings. I can't figure it out either, and I don't really want to. All I know is it hurt yesterday, it hurt today, and it'll hurt tomorrow -- and maybe that it'll never go away, that I'll always be able to see Buffy jump, but worse... that I'll always be able to see Buffy land.
Or maybe Xander is thinking how unfair it is that I lived and Buffy died. Been down that path once or twice, but it stings the eyes and burns the heart to think about it. How she was this beautiful brave Slayer who saved the world (a lot) and I'm just some gawky teenager who doesn't even really exist except inside people's heads, and how if the world ends now everyone will be looking at me and thinking it's you, your fault, if you'd died instead maybe Buffy could save us all.
I don't know, but I don't want to think about any of that. Because the world is gonna end one day, you know, and Buffy really won't be here to save us, but I can't really think about stuff like that. What I do think about is Buffy, and how stupid she was to kill herself for me, to kill herself for a random piece of her memory that she thought she loved. I loved her, but she was stupid to do that, and it might be selfish of me, but I find it hard to forget.
One day I'm gonna wake up and forgive her, and that might be the day I wake up and it doesn't hurt any more. I like to think of that day, and I hope it's soon, but one thing's for sure. It ain't gonna be tomorrow.
