-- June 1991: Buffy's tenth birthday –
Brown shoes, brown stockings, brown jumper, and brown barretts completed her look. She looked at herself in the mirror. Compared to her sister, she was the ugly duckling. While her sister had a mane of shiny brown hair, she was stuck with dull, sandy colored hair, not quite blond, nor brown. Her sister had the most perfect beautiful brown eyes, while she had eyes that were sometimes hazel, sometimes green, and sometimes gray. Her sister didn't have the need for glasses, while she was stuck was black- rimmed glasses, that was nearly as big as her face.
Buffy sighed, and looked away from the mirror. Today was her birthday, and she was determined to be a happy child, if not for her own sake, then for her parents.
"Buffy! Get down here now. You're party's going to start soon!" a loud booming voice yelled from downstairs.
Buffy walked out of the room slowly. She didn't understand why her parents were having a party, it wasn't like she had any friends to invite.
She had learned at an early age that being alone suited her more than being crowded by people.
"Buffy!"
"Coming," Buffy replied harshly.
Entering the living room, she looked around. There was a banner that said, "Happy Birthday Buffy" and a small cake on the table. Faith, her sister was listening to music, her mother was inspecting her nails. Only her father realized that she was in the room. He stood up and hugged her tightly, "Happy birthday, baby."
Buffy smiled weakly. Sure, her father was paying some attention to her. But, realizing she was alive once a month was not enough.
"So, you're nine –"
"Ten," Buffy said softly.
Her mother looked up, "Buffy, it's not polite to interrupt your father. Tell him you're sorry."
Buffy didn't say anything.
"Buffy ..."
Again, Buffy said nothing. "Buffy! You'll tell your dad sorry now!"
"Joyce ..."
"Shut up Hank. This isn't about you." Joyce retorted, standing up. She turned her attention back to Buffy, "Buffy ... got up to your room!"
Buffy looked at her mother, then turned around and started the trek back upstairs to her room. Passing her sister, she noticed that Faith was still listening to music. Tears were threatening to fall, but enough practice had taught her how to hold it back.
So much for being happy today, she thought as she heard her parents yelling at each other.
Brown shoes, brown stockings, brown jumper, and brown barretts completed her look. She looked at herself in the mirror. Compared to her sister, she was the ugly duckling. While her sister had a mane of shiny brown hair, she was stuck with dull, sandy colored hair, not quite blond, nor brown. Her sister had the most perfect beautiful brown eyes, while she had eyes that were sometimes hazel, sometimes green, and sometimes gray. Her sister didn't have the need for glasses, while she was stuck was black- rimmed glasses, that was nearly as big as her face.
Buffy sighed, and looked away from the mirror. Today was her birthday, and she was determined to be a happy child, if not for her own sake, then for her parents.
"Buffy! Get down here now. You're party's going to start soon!" a loud booming voice yelled from downstairs.
Buffy walked out of the room slowly. She didn't understand why her parents were having a party, it wasn't like she had any friends to invite.
She had learned at an early age that being alone suited her more than being crowded by people.
"Buffy!"
"Coming," Buffy replied harshly.
Entering the living room, she looked around. There was a banner that said, "Happy Birthday Buffy" and a small cake on the table. Faith, her sister was listening to music, her mother was inspecting her nails. Only her father realized that she was in the room. He stood up and hugged her tightly, "Happy birthday, baby."
Buffy smiled weakly. Sure, her father was paying some attention to her. But, realizing she was alive once a month was not enough.
"So, you're nine –"
"Ten," Buffy said softly.
Her mother looked up, "Buffy, it's not polite to interrupt your father. Tell him you're sorry."
Buffy didn't say anything.
"Buffy ..."
Again, Buffy said nothing. "Buffy! You'll tell your dad sorry now!"
"Joyce ..."
"Shut up Hank. This isn't about you." Joyce retorted, standing up. She turned her attention back to Buffy, "Buffy ... got up to your room!"
Buffy looked at her mother, then turned around and started the trek back upstairs to her room. Passing her sister, she noticed that Faith was still listening to music. Tears were threatening to fall, but enough practice had taught her how to hold it back.
So much for being happy today, she thought as she heard her parents yelling at each other.