Half Forgotten Song
Summary: Buffy reflects on what it's all for and what it's all about.
When you live in the same world for so long doing the same thing every day, it begins to get tedious. I haven't had a change of scenery since I was sixteen years old when I first moved to Sunnydale. Two of my boyfriends (and I use that term loosely for booth. One was more than that, and one was less) were vampires. One of my friends was a werewolf, and two others were witches. I've died around twice now, and yet I'm still walking and talking and slaying. I guess even death can't keep me from my so-called destiny. So I guess I'm not your ordinary young college dropout.
By the time I was twenty years old, I felt like I was forty. All my friends tried their best to live ordinary lives. They've tried school, marriage, normal jobs... But like me, and maybe because of me, none of them ever worked.
After seven years, I can't see the good things to slaying anymore. I remember once, a long time ago, back when I was passionate about it (more or less) my mother (God rest her soul) asked me what it was all for. The vampires keep coming back. I mean, am I really helping anything? There will always be plenty of demons and vampires in the world. Is one girl out of the millions in the populous going to make a difference?
There was Kendra. She came and she fought and I thought about quitting because the world only needs one slayer. But I didn't. And Kendra died anyway.
And then there was Faith. Faith was probably the largest consequence of Kendra's death. Again, I thought of handing the job over to the wild young girl. She was eager enough and she sure loved killing vampires. Unfortunately, she learned to love killing other things as well.
I feel so sorry for her. And then I try to stop feeling sorry for her, because I know she hates it when people take pity on her. So I remind myself of the things she did and I no longer feel sorry for her.
She accidentally staked the deputy mayor once. And the look in her eye let me knew she was terrified and her soul was riddled with guilt. I knew. Though she denied it, her eyes would always betray her. She did a good job of concealing things otherwise. She was controlled, but there was always the hint of panic beneath her cool facade. But eventually she got over it. She even went so far as to tell me she didn't care. And there was no fear in her eyes then. Only sincerity. And that was the precise moment I knew that I had lost her.
There are times if I wonder if she's insane, or just confused. Angel told me she's safe in prison now, and of her own accord. I guess when the mayor died, she had nothing left to lose. And again, I feel sorry for her.
But I wonder what's become of her now. Surely she can't be dead, for another slayer would have showed up. But I think I can take pride in knowing I'm the only one again. The Chosen One. But my life is hell and I wish I could just give all this shit up sometimes.
The Initiative is still working, isn't it? Riley's doing something for the government that involves hunting demons. Maybe they could do it for me. Maybe then we could all have a normal life.
But I've learned enough to know that even if I try to give up slaying, even if I try to run away from my problems, they will always catch up with me. That was proven by Lily, Chanterelle, or whatever she's calling herself now. I think she said her name was Anne now. Because of me.
So I can't run from it. I can't give it up. What else is there to do? Kill myself?
Nah. I don't want my death count to go up to three. At least not yet. Not when they still have the power to bring me back. I bet by the time I'm gone for good, I'll be like a cat. I'd have died nine whole times. I wonder...
So I can't run from it. I can't give it up. I can't even die. So what can I do? I can't stay with it. I just can't. I hate all my choices. I guess I wish things could just go back to the way they were. Before things got so serious. When we used to joke about slaying. I want to be back in highschool. Hell, I even miss Snyder. I want Giles to be back behind his desk, doing his librarian thing. I want Cordy and Oz back. I want Angel back. I want Miss Calendar back. I want Tara back. I want... I want Mom back.
Wouldn't it be great if we all just said "The hell with it!" and went back to highschool? Even Angel, and he hasn't been to highschool in over two hundred years! That would be interesting. Taking history all over again with a guy who can raise his hand and say he experienced the Potato Famine. That would really piss off the teacher. Hey, maybe Angel could be the teacher.
Of course, then there's that pesky thing called sunlight. But this is my fantasy and in my fantasy, I say Angel can be out in the sun.
Everything was perfect. Everything was a joke, even the end of the world, which we've almost seen a couple of times now. Gosh, the apocalypse count is even bigger than my death count.
You know, what they say is right. When you look back on your youth, you realize how much fun you had.
I wonder if Anya's friend Halley does un-vengeful wishes. Like, turning back time. Maybe then, I could save everyone. Maybe then, I could stop Angel from leaving, and Oz from running away to Timbuktu. Maybe then I could have stopped Angelous from killing Miss Calendar. Maybe then I could save my mother. And maybe I could have saved Tara. I could have done everything to stop a lot of this. But I didn't. And I can't turn back time (to the best of my knowledge. I'll get the Scoobies to keep looking). And I guess I just have to face it. Face the way things have turned out. Angel and Cordelia are snug in LA. Oz is finding is center with some Buddhist in Tibet. Tara, Mom and Miss Calendar are in a better place (this I know for a fact cause I've been there.) Faith is making friends in her new playpen. Xander and Anya... They'll deal. Willow, she'll come around. Spike... He's been around for years, he'll figure something out. Dawn, she's just starting. She's learning from my mistakes (I hope). Everything will turn out OK. Maybe this was just how things were supposed to be.
The ghosts of memory whisper a half forgotten song into my ear. The times when things were lighter, brighter, happier. I wish I could remember the rest of that song. Maybe then I could use it to brighten up my life now.
Or maybe I could just accept it and deal. Like everyone else around me.
Because even the darkest night ends, and the sun will always rise.
Summary: Buffy reflects on what it's all for and what it's all about.
When you live in the same world for so long doing the same thing every day, it begins to get tedious. I haven't had a change of scenery since I was sixteen years old when I first moved to Sunnydale. Two of my boyfriends (and I use that term loosely for booth. One was more than that, and one was less) were vampires. One of my friends was a werewolf, and two others were witches. I've died around twice now, and yet I'm still walking and talking and slaying. I guess even death can't keep me from my so-called destiny. So I guess I'm not your ordinary young college dropout.
By the time I was twenty years old, I felt like I was forty. All my friends tried their best to live ordinary lives. They've tried school, marriage, normal jobs... But like me, and maybe because of me, none of them ever worked.
After seven years, I can't see the good things to slaying anymore. I remember once, a long time ago, back when I was passionate about it (more or less) my mother (God rest her soul) asked me what it was all for. The vampires keep coming back. I mean, am I really helping anything? There will always be plenty of demons and vampires in the world. Is one girl out of the millions in the populous going to make a difference?
There was Kendra. She came and she fought and I thought about quitting because the world only needs one slayer. But I didn't. And Kendra died anyway.
And then there was Faith. Faith was probably the largest consequence of Kendra's death. Again, I thought of handing the job over to the wild young girl. She was eager enough and she sure loved killing vampires. Unfortunately, she learned to love killing other things as well.
I feel so sorry for her. And then I try to stop feeling sorry for her, because I know she hates it when people take pity on her. So I remind myself of the things she did and I no longer feel sorry for her.
She accidentally staked the deputy mayor once. And the look in her eye let me knew she was terrified and her soul was riddled with guilt. I knew. Though she denied it, her eyes would always betray her. She did a good job of concealing things otherwise. She was controlled, but there was always the hint of panic beneath her cool facade. But eventually she got over it. She even went so far as to tell me she didn't care. And there was no fear in her eyes then. Only sincerity. And that was the precise moment I knew that I had lost her.
There are times if I wonder if she's insane, or just confused. Angel told me she's safe in prison now, and of her own accord. I guess when the mayor died, she had nothing left to lose. And again, I feel sorry for her.
But I wonder what's become of her now. Surely she can't be dead, for another slayer would have showed up. But I think I can take pride in knowing I'm the only one again. The Chosen One. But my life is hell and I wish I could just give all this shit up sometimes.
The Initiative is still working, isn't it? Riley's doing something for the government that involves hunting demons. Maybe they could do it for me. Maybe then we could all have a normal life.
But I've learned enough to know that even if I try to give up slaying, even if I try to run away from my problems, they will always catch up with me. That was proven by Lily, Chanterelle, or whatever she's calling herself now. I think she said her name was Anne now. Because of me.
So I can't run from it. I can't give it up. What else is there to do? Kill myself?
Nah. I don't want my death count to go up to three. At least not yet. Not when they still have the power to bring me back. I bet by the time I'm gone for good, I'll be like a cat. I'd have died nine whole times. I wonder...
So I can't run from it. I can't give it up. I can't even die. So what can I do? I can't stay with it. I just can't. I hate all my choices. I guess I wish things could just go back to the way they were. Before things got so serious. When we used to joke about slaying. I want to be back in highschool. Hell, I even miss Snyder. I want Giles to be back behind his desk, doing his librarian thing. I want Cordy and Oz back. I want Angel back. I want Miss Calendar back. I want Tara back. I want... I want Mom back.
Wouldn't it be great if we all just said "The hell with it!" and went back to highschool? Even Angel, and he hasn't been to highschool in over two hundred years! That would be interesting. Taking history all over again with a guy who can raise his hand and say he experienced the Potato Famine. That would really piss off the teacher. Hey, maybe Angel could be the teacher.
Of course, then there's that pesky thing called sunlight. But this is my fantasy and in my fantasy, I say Angel can be out in the sun.
Everything was perfect. Everything was a joke, even the end of the world, which we've almost seen a couple of times now. Gosh, the apocalypse count is even bigger than my death count.
You know, what they say is right. When you look back on your youth, you realize how much fun you had.
I wonder if Anya's friend Halley does un-vengeful wishes. Like, turning back time. Maybe then, I could save everyone. Maybe then, I could stop Angel from leaving, and Oz from running away to Timbuktu. Maybe then I could have stopped Angelous from killing Miss Calendar. Maybe then I could save my mother. And maybe I could have saved Tara. I could have done everything to stop a lot of this. But I didn't. And I can't turn back time (to the best of my knowledge. I'll get the Scoobies to keep looking). And I guess I just have to face it. Face the way things have turned out. Angel and Cordelia are snug in LA. Oz is finding is center with some Buddhist in Tibet. Tara, Mom and Miss Calendar are in a better place (this I know for a fact cause I've been there.) Faith is making friends in her new playpen. Xander and Anya... They'll deal. Willow, she'll come around. Spike... He's been around for years, he'll figure something out. Dawn, she's just starting. She's learning from my mistakes (I hope). Everything will turn out OK. Maybe this was just how things were supposed to be.
The ghosts of memory whisper a half forgotten song into my ear. The times when things were lighter, brighter, happier. I wish I could remember the rest of that song. Maybe then I could use it to brighten up my life now.
Or maybe I could just accept it and deal. Like everyone else around me.
Because even the darkest night ends, and the sun will always rise.