Title: Thinking It Over
Author: Kat
Disclaimer: All belong to Joss.
Rating: PG
Summary: Buffy's POV on the whole being-dragged-out-of-heaven-by-your-best- friends-and-having-to-deal-with-it thing.
Author's Notes: This is one of those senseless, emotional vignettes. Anyway, hope you enjoy, feedback is always welcome! ;)
Peace. Serenity. Calm. Bliss. Full. Happiness. Perfect, pure, peaceful, filling, blissful, happiness.
Heaven.
(I think I was in… heaven.)
I have never known anything feel so good than those one hundred and forty- seven days I spent there. Not that I counted the days of course, time… it wasn't an issue there. Nothing was an issue there, there was no pain, no hurt, and no stress. It was pretty much perfection incarnate.
But I'm not there anymore. I could be. I could still be happy and serene and fulfilled. People I love (loved?) ripped me out of there, pulled and dragged me. Screaming so loud… NO NO NO!!!! Hooked their claws onto my soul and wrenched it back, back to Earth. Where things are harsh, and bright, and hard. They pulled me out of heaven, my friends. My friends did this to me. Can I hate them for not knowing? For thinking they were saving me from an eternity of torment? Is it fair?
Death was my gift. It really was. I died and I received my gift… heaven. No more fighting, no more blood, tears, sweat, shouting, no more pain.
((Death is your gift))
And now they know, they know what they've done. How I had to thank them for bringing me back when really inside I was screaming words of hatred.
Waking up inside a coffin, 6 feet under. Smashing through the lid, and clawing your way through dirt and muck and soil to the ground above. Then having to fight demons. The blood on my hands. It was all back. I was scared, confused, hurt, stressed, my blood, my sweat, and I fought. All those things I thought I had escaped. I had found my final outlet in death, and it had been destroyed.
And now I find myself seeking pleasure in anything I can. I want the fire back. I'm cold, still cold from the grave.
(I touch the fire and it freezes me, I want the fire back.)
But how can I find warmth in yet more cold? More death?
A shell, with the middle scraped out.
Why am I doing this?
Because death is my gift? Because he's death, dead, the living dead?
It's too much… it's too hard… I shouldn't have to do this. I should be in heaven right now, living the good life, enjoying every second of my existence. Getting my reward. Haven't I saved enough lives? It's not like I'm even the Slayer anymore. I died. Before, I mean. And another was called, and then another. It shouldn't be on my shoulders anymore. This shouldn't be happening to me. What if I'd have died that first time? Would I have still gotten my heaven? No.
((Always))
Maybe I'm just drowning. In the ocean that is my life.
Why does it always have to come down to them? Damn vampires. Wasn't I meant to slay those things? Not fall in love with them. I'm a Vampire Slayer. That's my title. Why can't I just do it? Why do I have to get feelings for them? It's kind of funny really. In an ironic, sad sort of way. I'm sleeping with the enemy. I'm protecting them, and even though it's so wrong, it always feels so right.
They tried to kill me countless times. They used to be just vamps I guess, just words, now they're people, they mean something. I have memories of them. Feelings for them.
Just like I have memories of my death, and my rebirth. I remember everything I felt. Mostly they're harsh, painful memories. Lots of blood and darkness.
Is this all there is for me?
I can have this feeling, like my skin is too tight and I can't breathe because it hurts so much... anytime I want. But happiness, that's something I struggle with, and if I ever do manage it, it's short-lived and torn away from me painfully with claws and redness spilling, pulling me over the edge-
And in the end, it's not a vampire that clears my head. He's all-human, and he loved me. To see him, happy and loved and living. It makes me realise how I'm throwing my life away. I've been given so many miracles, so many new starts. This is it, I don't get any more. I need to make the most of this life. I need to really live it.
So I begin with him, with disposing of him.
((Vampires are for killing))
It's goodbye and it's for good. It's harsh and it's forever. It's my new start.
And as I walk away… I smile.
_____end._____
Author: Kat
Disclaimer: All belong to Joss.
Rating: PG
Summary: Buffy's POV on the whole being-dragged-out-of-heaven-by-your-best- friends-and-having-to-deal-with-it thing.
Author's Notes: This is one of those senseless, emotional vignettes. Anyway, hope you enjoy, feedback is always welcome! ;)
Peace. Serenity. Calm. Bliss. Full. Happiness. Perfect, pure, peaceful, filling, blissful, happiness.
Heaven.
(I think I was in… heaven.)
I have never known anything feel so good than those one hundred and forty- seven days I spent there. Not that I counted the days of course, time… it wasn't an issue there. Nothing was an issue there, there was no pain, no hurt, and no stress. It was pretty much perfection incarnate.
But I'm not there anymore. I could be. I could still be happy and serene and fulfilled. People I love (loved?) ripped me out of there, pulled and dragged me. Screaming so loud… NO NO NO!!!! Hooked their claws onto my soul and wrenched it back, back to Earth. Where things are harsh, and bright, and hard. They pulled me out of heaven, my friends. My friends did this to me. Can I hate them for not knowing? For thinking they were saving me from an eternity of torment? Is it fair?
Death was my gift. It really was. I died and I received my gift… heaven. No more fighting, no more blood, tears, sweat, shouting, no more pain.
((Death is your gift))
And now they know, they know what they've done. How I had to thank them for bringing me back when really inside I was screaming words of hatred.
Waking up inside a coffin, 6 feet under. Smashing through the lid, and clawing your way through dirt and muck and soil to the ground above. Then having to fight demons. The blood on my hands. It was all back. I was scared, confused, hurt, stressed, my blood, my sweat, and I fought. All those things I thought I had escaped. I had found my final outlet in death, and it had been destroyed.
And now I find myself seeking pleasure in anything I can. I want the fire back. I'm cold, still cold from the grave.
(I touch the fire and it freezes me, I want the fire back.)
But how can I find warmth in yet more cold? More death?
A shell, with the middle scraped out.
Why am I doing this?
Because death is my gift? Because he's death, dead, the living dead?
It's too much… it's too hard… I shouldn't have to do this. I should be in heaven right now, living the good life, enjoying every second of my existence. Getting my reward. Haven't I saved enough lives? It's not like I'm even the Slayer anymore. I died. Before, I mean. And another was called, and then another. It shouldn't be on my shoulders anymore. This shouldn't be happening to me. What if I'd have died that first time? Would I have still gotten my heaven? No.
((Always))
Maybe I'm just drowning. In the ocean that is my life.
Why does it always have to come down to them? Damn vampires. Wasn't I meant to slay those things? Not fall in love with them. I'm a Vampire Slayer. That's my title. Why can't I just do it? Why do I have to get feelings for them? It's kind of funny really. In an ironic, sad sort of way. I'm sleeping with the enemy. I'm protecting them, and even though it's so wrong, it always feels so right.
They tried to kill me countless times. They used to be just vamps I guess, just words, now they're people, they mean something. I have memories of them. Feelings for them.
Just like I have memories of my death, and my rebirth. I remember everything I felt. Mostly they're harsh, painful memories. Lots of blood and darkness.
Is this all there is for me?
I can have this feeling, like my skin is too tight and I can't breathe because it hurts so much... anytime I want. But happiness, that's something I struggle with, and if I ever do manage it, it's short-lived and torn away from me painfully with claws and redness spilling, pulling me over the edge-
And in the end, it's not a vampire that clears my head. He's all-human, and he loved me. To see him, happy and loved and living. It makes me realise how I'm throwing my life away. I've been given so many miracles, so many new starts. This is it, I don't get any more. I need to make the most of this life. I need to really live it.
So I begin with him, with disposing of him.
((Vampires are for killing))
It's goodbye and it's for good. It's harsh and it's forever. It's my new start.
And as I walk away… I smile.
_____end._____