Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the storyline...don't sue! I only have 6 cents.
A/N: If you are offended by the thought of two women in love, then why are you reading stories is this freakin' category? Anyway,
if that is the case, turn back now before it's too late...bwahahahaha!!!
Spoilers: The Sixth Season
Summary: Willow is reflecting on Tara's death and how much she meant to her.
And now, on with the show!
Chapter 1: Insomnia
Willow was restless, even worse than ever.She'd tried to sleep for hours, but to no avail.She tossed and turned, unable
to keep her eyes closed for long. It was now 3:27 am, and she was tired of staring at the bright red numbers on her alarm clock,
mocking her sleepless state.
It had been three months since her Tara had been so abruptly taken away from her, the pain if it still as fresh as if
it were yesterday. Her stupid "Black Magick is NOT the Answer" meeting were doing little to no good to ease her soul, yet she
did take some comfort in that she was not alone in her troubles. It wasn't as if any of the other members of the group had tried
to destroy the world or anything, but there were others who had used magicks to take another's life. There was even one teenage
boy who had actually killed his own mother after years of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, using methods that were nowhere
near as kind as her skinning Warren alive.
Still, Willow felt restless, tempted to do a spell to help her sleep, to forget what she had done, to erase the pain.
None of this was an option, however, as part of her sentencing was to deal with this as if she had murdered using man-made weapons
rather than magick. She felt like a heroin addict with a loaded syringe just waiting to be injected. The lethal dose. The spell to
end all her pain forever. To go to Tara rather than bring her back to her.
At that thought, Willow decided she needed to clear her head. She crossed the room to her closet and put on an old worn
pair of boot-cut blue jeans and a pink shirt similar to the one she had worn the day Tara's blood was spilled. She still had the
shirt, with the blood stains. She'd held onto it, never washing it, for fear that she was washing away her one true love.
Willow pulled on her pink zip-up sweatshirt and headed down the stairs and out into the Sunnydale night, knowing full well all the dangers she
might encounter, knowing she could be killed.
It wasn't like she had anything to live for, anyway.
A/N: If you are offended by the thought of two women in love, then why are you reading stories is this freakin' category? Anyway,
if that is the case, turn back now before it's too late...bwahahahaha!!!
Spoilers: The Sixth Season
Summary: Willow is reflecting on Tara's death and how much she meant to her.
And now, on with the show!
Chapter 1: Insomnia
Willow was restless, even worse than ever.She'd tried to sleep for hours, but to no avail.She tossed and turned, unable
to keep her eyes closed for long. It was now 3:27 am, and she was tired of staring at the bright red numbers on her alarm clock,
mocking her sleepless state.
It had been three months since her Tara had been so abruptly taken away from her, the pain if it still as fresh as if
it were yesterday. Her stupid "Black Magick is NOT the Answer" meeting were doing little to no good to ease her soul, yet she
did take some comfort in that she was not alone in her troubles. It wasn't as if any of the other members of the group had tried
to destroy the world or anything, but there were others who had used magicks to take another's life. There was even one teenage
boy who had actually killed his own mother after years of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse, using methods that were nowhere
near as kind as her skinning Warren alive.
Still, Willow felt restless, tempted to do a spell to help her sleep, to forget what she had done, to erase the pain.
None of this was an option, however, as part of her sentencing was to deal with this as if she had murdered using man-made weapons
rather than magick. She felt like a heroin addict with a loaded syringe just waiting to be injected. The lethal dose. The spell to
end all her pain forever. To go to Tara rather than bring her back to her.
At that thought, Willow decided she needed to clear her head. She crossed the room to her closet and put on an old worn
pair of boot-cut blue jeans and a pink shirt similar to the one she had worn the day Tara's blood was spilled. She still had the
shirt, with the blood stains. She'd held onto it, never washing it, for fear that she was washing away her one true love.
Willow pulled on her pink zip-up sweatshirt and headed down the stairs and out into the Sunnydale night, knowing full well all the dangers she
might encounter, knowing she could be killed.
It wasn't like she had anything to live for, anyway.