A/N: Buffy's dead and not comming back. This is set after season 5. And is in Dawn's point of view. I don't own anything, blah blah.


She did it. Did the unthinkable. Went behind my back and killed me faster.

She called social services.

But it will be okay because they won't find me. After she called, I went up to the water tower. I've been here for hours and it's now dark out. I still can't get it passed my brain that she did what she did.

I don't even want to think about it anymore.

Sometimes, when everything is still and quiet and dead, I like to think what would have happened if I jumped. If I died. If I could be labeled a hero. But who lets an old Key become something great?

It's weird. Lately, when I look in the mirror and look past the horrible figure that I see being reflected, I can see the seems of my life breaking away. Like my green energy is becoming too much to handle and it's forcing this skin to peel and break and scar and fall apart. It scares me. But, in a way, it's reassuring. Reassures my ultimate goal: to fly. Because maybe one day this shell will decompose and crumble and shatter and I'll finally be able to break out and be free. Fly away to somewhere better.

I've thought about cutting the skin off. But it wouldn't work like that. I'd still result in blood and tendons and bones.

And that's the things I want to take away. Everything physical. Everything harsh. Everything that is keeping me alive.

The sun is slowly dropping low into the sky and it's getting colder. Doesn't it seem to be cold a lot? Or is it just that I have no other recognition of temperature? The skin that is tight on my bones produces goose bumps.

It must be cold out. It has to be.

The night's real dark now. No far-away stars or reflected light from the sun on the moon to lighten the blackness. And the inky blackness made me feel insufficient. Made me feel small. Made everything in my body go tight. And all my emotions just reduced into fitting into a pin point.

It really made everything so clear.

Hearing the steady, yet dull, beating in my chest, I knew it was right.

I knew I finally felt free enough to fly.

I stepped to the farthest I could go to the rounded edge and look down. I'm pretty bad at judging distances (I guess monks didn't find them important), but I would guess 100 feet. I counted over two hundred stairs. I lost count.

But the wind is getting stronger now and I feel it pressing against me. And it's all in my favor.

Everything's perfect. It's like the stars are aligning for me.

But this time there's no portal. No rip in the sky. No blood (until I hit the ground). There's just me and the grass.

Things falls at 9.8 m/s squared. Doesn't matter the weight. Gravity is 9.8 m/s squared. Wind resistance is the only thing that will affect. Will affect me, anyway.

I'm going to have to job at an angle, so I won't hit the stairs.

Everything's going fast now and I can't think. But I don't want to think. Everything flashes before my eyes. And seeing all of it twice makes me want to continue to go faster. My hands are slicing through the air and I'm weightless.

Look at me now, mom. I can finally fly! I never did need that umbrella. I only needed to believe. Did you hear that, mom? Just to believe! If I only knew it was that easy. Easy. It was so easy! If I only tried sooner. If I only...

My heart's beating faster now. And the world has slowed down into distant movements and whistling wind.

Did you feel like this Buffy? When you were dying for me? Did it feel like you were being torn between two worlds? One's calling me to stay here. I can hear it buzzing in my ear. It's telling me of all the things I would loose. Will loose. But then I'm hearing of everything good. It's teasing me with little clips of what you had, Buffy and mom.

But I remember when I was little and going to Church was the right thing to do. People who commit suicide go to hell, mom. I don't want to go to hell. I'm already in hell.

Maybe I already commit suicide and this is where I ended up. Maybe I jumped with you, Buffy. And maybe this was my punishment. Maybe...

I see the ground now and it looks inviting. It seems like it took to long. Oh so very long. I've been waiting my entire life for this. My body was made for this.

And I think of everyone I'm leaving behind. I'm sorry Tara that I broke your heart. I used you up and I never meant to. And I'm sorry Willow that I made you and Xander grow up too fast. Made you lose your best friend that you ever had. And I'm sorry Giles that you lost your daughter because of me. Because I know you wanted to kill me. But that's okay because I wanted to kill me too. And I'm sorry Spike for destroying the love of your life. I'm sorry that you even had to look at me. I don't know how you did.

And I'm mostly sorry for myself because I never got the chance to.

I hope you saved me a spot beside you, mom. Because I'm coming home. But I guess I never really had a home in the first place, did I? Guess I didn't really have a mom or a sister, either. But death's all about adventures, right? That's what Peter Pan said. You used to read me Peter Pan when I was little, mom. I always wanted to be Pan. Never did want to grow up. Guess I'll never have to now, huh? Can I be the littlest angel? You read me that book too. The little boy didn't know what to get Jesus for his birthday. He was so lost, mom. Just like me. Oh mom, I'm so lost. But I'm going to find my way home, right? Is my address tied around my wrist? Who's going to find me? Where am I going to go?

What's going to happen?

And the last thing I see is black. But I can still hear my heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Because a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating just the same.


This is all I have so far. I'm not sure if I want to continue it or just leave it there. Eh, if I continue it will probably only be one more chapter. Okay. Hope you liked it. R&R. KC