Title: And It Feels Like Nothing
Author: Jane McCartney
Feedback: Don't make me beg for it. Oh hell, whatever: pleeeease? Pretty please? It'll just take a sec from ya!
Acknowledgments: Every beloved reviewer, and my beloved Theo. My fics are practically his work too. But probably not half as good as his own fics.
Author's note: This is short and it's a songfic. It's practically pointless. Well, deal with it.
Summary: Sometimes, Buffy just has to let the pain out.
***
Here Comes the Sun: Beatles - John Lennon and Paul McCartney
~~~~~~
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright
~~~~~~
I don't know precisely how long it is that I've been here, in this exact same position, hitting this exact same stupid punching bag, over and over and over.
I hate it. God, I hate it so much.
I hate its idiotic red leather, its unresponsive static; I hate how it just can't, it won't react while everything I'm doing is using it.
Using it to relieve my pain, my grief, my anger, and my fear, and my pain and anger, and this idiot growing fear that's tearing my heart apart every day and night, and I'm so angry I just can't stop hitting it, and again, and again...
Shit. I so need to get the hell out of here.
But then again, my arms just can't deal with this decision. Stupid arms.
They just need to be here, punching, hurting, punishing and forgetting... I can feel the blood flowing through my wounded skin, staining my hands and soul.
And it feels like nothing.
~~~~~~
Little darling, the smiles returning to their faces Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright
~~~~~~
No pain, no dirtiness, no excitement. Just... nothingness. An agonizing blank, a rapidly-widening hole.
And there is also the impulse. The one to keep on going, again and again; it never stops, it just can't stop - it won't stop.
The contact of my tightened wrist against the hard leather creates a muffled thump. The painful sound, however, just don't seem to find the way to my ears.
But sometimes I have the impression that it's the closest thing to music, a rhythm that only I hear.
Like a forgotten burn to my body, heart and soul - something like a constant reminder. Of who I was, what I was here for - of what I can't be anymore.
I just can't let myself feel again. I can only feel nothingness when my sister's arms surround me.
I don't hug anymore. I just stand and let people wrap their arms around me, their loving, amiable, caring arms. I don't feel the warmth of it anymore, the comfort and the passion - there's no response.
~~~~~~
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright
~~~~~~
I need...
Spike's right. Everything's wrong. I'm wrong.
I just need to...
I know I should wish there was a response. But I just can't. I just can't, not anymore.
I just need... I just need to keep punching that leather bag. It mocks me. It scares me. It makes me remember. Remember everything I'll never be again.
I've got to keep punching the stupid leather bag. It's the only thing I've got left now.
I wanna scream, but I can't find my voice.
I can't see the sun.
I can't get out of this coffin.
I just can't.
~~~~~~
Here comes the sun Here comes the sun It's alright It's alright
***
Pointless, huh? Well, yeah, I know. But, anyway, review!
Author: Jane McCartney
Feedback: Don't make me beg for it. Oh hell, whatever: pleeeease? Pretty please? It'll just take a sec from ya!
Acknowledgments: Every beloved reviewer, and my beloved Theo. My fics are practically his work too. But probably not half as good as his own fics.
Author's note: This is short and it's a songfic. It's practically pointless. Well, deal with it.
Summary: Sometimes, Buffy just has to let the pain out.
***
Here Comes the Sun: Beatles - John Lennon and Paul McCartney
~~~~~~
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright
~~~~~~
I don't know precisely how long it is that I've been here, in this exact same position, hitting this exact same stupid punching bag, over and over and over.
I hate it. God, I hate it so much.
I hate its idiotic red leather, its unresponsive static; I hate how it just can't, it won't react while everything I'm doing is using it.
Using it to relieve my pain, my grief, my anger, and my fear, and my pain and anger, and this idiot growing fear that's tearing my heart apart every day and night, and I'm so angry I just can't stop hitting it, and again, and again...
Shit. I so need to get the hell out of here.
But then again, my arms just can't deal with this decision. Stupid arms.
They just need to be here, punching, hurting, punishing and forgetting... I can feel the blood flowing through my wounded skin, staining my hands and soul.
And it feels like nothing.
~~~~~~
Little darling, the smiles returning to their faces Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright
~~~~~~
No pain, no dirtiness, no excitement. Just... nothingness. An agonizing blank, a rapidly-widening hole.
And there is also the impulse. The one to keep on going, again and again; it never stops, it just can't stop - it won't stop.
The contact of my tightened wrist against the hard leather creates a muffled thump. The painful sound, however, just don't seem to find the way to my ears.
But sometimes I have the impression that it's the closest thing to music, a rhythm that only I hear.
Like a forgotten burn to my body, heart and soul - something like a constant reminder. Of who I was, what I was here for - of what I can't be anymore.
I just can't let myself feel again. I can only feel nothingness when my sister's arms surround me.
I don't hug anymore. I just stand and let people wrap their arms around me, their loving, amiable, caring arms. I don't feel the warmth of it anymore, the comfort and the passion - there's no response.
~~~~~~
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear Here comes the sun, here comes the sun And I say it's alright
~~~~~~
I need...
Spike's right. Everything's wrong. I'm wrong.
I just need to...
I know I should wish there was a response. But I just can't. I just can't, not anymore.
I just need... I just need to keep punching that leather bag. It mocks me. It scares me. It makes me remember. Remember everything I'll never be again.
I've got to keep punching the stupid leather bag. It's the only thing I've got left now.
I wanna scream, but I can't find my voice.
I can't see the sun.
I can't get out of this coffin.
I just can't.
~~~~~~
Here comes the sun Here comes the sun It's alright It's alright
***
Pointless, huh? Well, yeah, I know. But, anyway, review!