Chapter 2
A/N: The rating changes to R here, because of rape flashbacks. Buffy's POV. Memories in '-'.
.....................................................
"Buffy, can I speak to you for a moment?"
Oh no. Not now. Why couldn't she have just skimmed the essay, like the rest of my teachers do on essays? It's not fair. She's going to do something. . .
"I believe that you have a lot of unexpressed rage in you, and that maybe speaking to someone outside of your daily life would help you with that. I assure you that everything you would say to her would be strictly confidential, and it might help you to let go of some of that anger."
I simply nod my head and walk towards my seat to wait until the bell rings, which it does 5 minutes later. I'm still zoning while Mrs. Reeds drones on about plot chains, how they must flow, all moving up to a climax and back down again. . .
'"Shut up, Buff, it'll only hurt for a moment."
"No, god, please no!"
Suddenly I'm back up against that ally wall outside the Bronze, my hands up above my head, other hands are reaching down where they have no right to go. . .
"What's the matter, Buffy, you scared?"
"Get off me!"
I realize that no one can hear me. The Bronze is too noisy for anyone to notice a couple of screams.
"That's it, lover, fight it. It only makes it more fun."
The creep's getting off on this!
"Please, put me down, I, I, ahhh!"
I scream as he slams into me.'
"NO!"
Heads rise up around the classroom as my shriek resonates throughout the room, but all I can feel is my heart pounding in my chest. I have to get out of there, I have to get out. . .
I'm running out the classroom doors before Cordelia or anyone else can stop me.
Tears are blinding my eyesight as I run through the halls, not knowing which way I'm going, not really caring.
I slam into someone, and I don't even raise my head up as I whimper and step back into the wall before I slide to the ground, sobbing.
"Are you OK, love?"
I look up into the face of a blonde haired man with a worried look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me go. . ." I'm whimpering, babbling, crying, my head's screaming at me the memories of which I took so long to forget.
I should be able to forget, right? It's been almost two years; I have the emotional stability of someone older than just my 17 years-or at least I did.
I realize that the man's still standing there, his eyes growing larger with each passing second.
He kneels down in front of me and takes my hands.
"Come on, love, lets get you to the bathroom. Clean you up some, huh?"
I silently agree while he leads me towards the restroom.
"Now I'm going to wait right out here while you go in there and get washed up, alright? No more tears now, ducks."
I nod my understanding despite my tearstained face and walk towards the sink.
I look up in the mirror and see a hollow shell of what I once was. It rarely gets this bad-the days when I'm so depressed I don't even bother to shower or put on makeup.
I slowly wash away the tears that betray my usually grinning self.
Who am I?
The question that brought on this whole new set of anxieties bears down on me as I stare at the face in the mirror.
It's not fair. It's just not fair.
.....................................................
A/N: OK, please review; I'm sort of new at writing and that was my first attempt at something that could really be considered an 'R' rated piece, however weak. Also, if you're reading 'Darker,' I want you to know that that's going to be taking a backseat for a while. I'm being forced to get all 'A's' this quarter, on the threat that "A summer can go by very slowly without a TV, computer, or headphones. . ." 'Specially since I got two 'C's' on my last report card. A bientôt!
A/N: The rating changes to R here, because of rape flashbacks. Buffy's POV. Memories in '-'.
.....................................................
"Buffy, can I speak to you for a moment?"
Oh no. Not now. Why couldn't she have just skimmed the essay, like the rest of my teachers do on essays? It's not fair. She's going to do something. . .
"I believe that you have a lot of unexpressed rage in you, and that maybe speaking to someone outside of your daily life would help you with that. I assure you that everything you would say to her would be strictly confidential, and it might help you to let go of some of that anger."
I simply nod my head and walk towards my seat to wait until the bell rings, which it does 5 minutes later. I'm still zoning while Mrs. Reeds drones on about plot chains, how they must flow, all moving up to a climax and back down again. . .
'"Shut up, Buff, it'll only hurt for a moment."
"No, god, please no!"
Suddenly I'm back up against that ally wall outside the Bronze, my hands up above my head, other hands are reaching down where they have no right to go. . .
"What's the matter, Buffy, you scared?"
"Get off me!"
I realize that no one can hear me. The Bronze is too noisy for anyone to notice a couple of screams.
"That's it, lover, fight it. It only makes it more fun."
The creep's getting off on this!
"Please, put me down, I, I, ahhh!"
I scream as he slams into me.'
"NO!"
Heads rise up around the classroom as my shriek resonates throughout the room, but all I can feel is my heart pounding in my chest. I have to get out of there, I have to get out. . .
I'm running out the classroom doors before Cordelia or anyone else can stop me.
Tears are blinding my eyesight as I run through the halls, not knowing which way I'm going, not really caring.
I slam into someone, and I don't even raise my head up as I whimper and step back into the wall before I slide to the ground, sobbing.
"Are you OK, love?"
I look up into the face of a blonde haired man with a worried look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me go. . ." I'm whimpering, babbling, crying, my head's screaming at me the memories of which I took so long to forget.
I should be able to forget, right? It's been almost two years; I have the emotional stability of someone older than just my 17 years-or at least I did.
I realize that the man's still standing there, his eyes growing larger with each passing second.
He kneels down in front of me and takes my hands.
"Come on, love, lets get you to the bathroom. Clean you up some, huh?"
I silently agree while he leads me towards the restroom.
"Now I'm going to wait right out here while you go in there and get washed up, alright? No more tears now, ducks."
I nod my understanding despite my tearstained face and walk towards the sink.
I look up in the mirror and see a hollow shell of what I once was. It rarely gets this bad-the days when I'm so depressed I don't even bother to shower or put on makeup.
I slowly wash away the tears that betray my usually grinning self.
Who am I?
The question that brought on this whole new set of anxieties bears down on me as I stare at the face in the mirror.
It's not fair. It's just not fair.
.....................................................
A/N: OK, please review; I'm sort of new at writing and that was my first attempt at something that could really be considered an 'R' rated piece, however weak. Also, if you're reading 'Darker,' I want you to know that that's going to be taking a backseat for a while. I'm being forced to get all 'A's' this quarter, on the threat that "A summer can go by very slowly without a TV, computer, or headphones. . ." 'Specially since I got two 'C's' on my last report card. A bientôt!
