AN: This is my new story. I needed another fic that I could express my dark emotions out of. Ha. I sound so angsty. Anyway...

Everyone is human here. Joyce is dead; died during child birth with Dawn. Dawn is currently 17. Buffy is 18 and is a total whore and is never home. They both live with their father who is running for mayor. Spike's probably about 25 or so, I don't know.

But I think that's all you need to know.
Enjoy...


The brunette girl sighed as she looked upon another healing scar on her arm. It was all her fault, she thought bitterly to herself. Her father sure had stressed that enough, though, after his eyes would glance at her arm. Fingernails dug into her skin as she thought about her father. He was out on a business trip, or in reality, out with another one of his secretary whores. Dawn didn't know how her sister, Buffy, could handle it. Laughing to herself she realized that Buffy did the same thing. She was the town's resident whore.

Taking in a deep breath, she rested her head on her window. Rain was streaking down the pane of glass and she traced the tracks with her fingers.

Life was hard, but living was harder.

She grabbed one of her razor that she keeps under her window seat which she was sitting on now. Pushing her sleeves up on her black shirt, she again stares at her skin. It looked like a battle field. The razor was cold to her flesh as she pressed down. She could hear it tearing at her flesh as she cut "across the street". Blood slowly pooled to the surface.

Hearing a noise, she shoved her sleeves back down her arm and winced when the rough material collided with her fresh wound. The sudden racket could be from her father's early return or mean Buffy was back from her boy of the month. Either way, she slipped into bed and feigned sleep.

There was a banging on her door. No one would normally bang on her door. Dawn's heart beat started to elevate, but she reminded herself to breathe. The doorknob started to rattle for she locked it when she came to her room. Then all the noise stopped. She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, thanking whatever above that whoever was there went away.

But she spoke too soon as a foot broke through the middle of the door. A jean clad leg was attached to the black boot as it retreated only to kick the door again. With the next kick, the whole door shattered under pressure. Dawn tried not to scream and she didn't for fear ran through her veins.

"Well, well, well," the man consumed in shadows said as he walked closer to Dawn. "What have we here?"

He was gorgeous and the brunette was memorized. The stranger was dressed in black, except for his jeans that hung loosely on his hips. Black shirt. Black duster. Black gloves. Black boots. A sinister smirk completed the whole facade. His hair was a bleached white that shone when lightening struck and filled the room with light. He looked delightfully good.

And for some reason, Dawn wasn't scared anymore.

"Get out of the fucking bed," he spat with determination under his breath.

She did exactly as he said and nervously pulled at the edges of her black night shirt.

"You're coming with me," he harshly said while grabbing her arm. Of course it was the one with the fresh wound and she cried out.

"You're hurting me," she cried as she yanked her arm back. Nursing her bruised arm close to her chest, she nervously looked around.

"What?" he stomped his foot, annoyed with the girl's antics.

"Where am I going?" she asked in a small voice while rolling her bare feet around on the wooden floor.

"Away from here. I'm kidnapping you, doll," he winked while grabbing a cigarette out of his pocket and lightening it. He grabbed her vacant arm and began pulling for her to go, but she stood her ground. "Oh get one with it already!"

"I'm not wearing anything under this," dawn meekly said while biting her lip. The man gave her a wide eye look and deeply inhaled smoke into his lungs.

"Pack a bag. Nothing fancy, either. Underwear, shirt, pants. Not too much, don't want them to think you ran away," he explained while letting her go.

She dropped to the ground as she reached under her bed. With her giant purse in hand, she walked over to her closet and grabbed some of her favorite things. A pair of worn in jeans, a couple of t-shirts, three pairs of underwear, and a bra. Stuffing them into her purse, she slipped on a pair of converses and walked back to her kidnapper.

"I'm ready," she told him.

He looked over at her and nodded.

"Got to make it look the part," he excused while he trashed her room. He pushed over her bed table and knocked over her book case. After making it appealing to him, and as if she put up a fight, he grabbed her arm.

"Come with me."


Ah, read and review. I'm nervous on how this went over.