AN: Some of you might know my other story „Memories of a Doll". I know, it's been a long time since I posted the last chapter, and I won't bother you with too much details: my pc broke totally down, I got a new one, I have to write everything again. But I have got holidays now, so I think I will find the time to write the end.
To everybody who doesn't know me yet: I am from Germany and therefore I ask you to show me all my mistake, cause this reviews help me to improve my language.
Lady Moon
Coldness. That was what she saw, in the eyes of the people around her. After she found out, that she didn't belong to them, she realized she had seen it all the time, just couldn't tell what it was. Cause deep in their hearts they had all known it long before.
Whiteness. The sun still shone as bright as always at day. But it was too bright. It shone white, so white like the walls in the hospital, sterile, without any feelings, any humanity. And although the days were warm, she always felt cold and nothing could warm her. She felt as if the sun was hunting her, as if it wanted to show everybody that she didn't belonged.
Darkness. At night it was better. The moon didn't shine down on her merciless. It comforted her with its gentle rays. The sun was hypocritical, showing warmth and brightness when in everybody's heart only darkness could be found. But the moon helped her to hide in its created shadows, so that nobody could find her. But she always knew that she only had to look out of her window and there she was again. Lady Moon, looking out for her like a caring mother.
But still she felt so cold.
When Dawn woke up one night the coldness was stronger than ever before. It wrapped around her heart and for one, two seconds it stopped to beat. She couldn't stand it anymore. She thought of Buffy. Her bed was only some meters away, but she herself an infinity.
Dawn looked at the pictures beside her bed. Joyce, Buffy and her, laughing into the camera. A second one, all the Scoobys at her last Birthday. And a last one, her favourite one. Only Joyce and her. She had been 3 or 4 when it was taken, she remembered with a smile on her face. Then the smile faded. No, when the picture had been made she had only been a green ball of energy. She put all the pictures down, so that she needn't see the happy faces.
Everything was fake. The memories that hurt most where these of the small things. Like arguing with Buffy about who should put the star onto the top of the Christmas tree, drinking a hot chocolate after they all had gotten into rain, drawing pictures with Buffy for their parents, who put them all onto the refrigerator, or her mother singing a song before she got into bed.
Dawn remembered that she could never sleep without that song until she turned six. And all these memories were fake. She was fake. And Buffy and all the others reminded her to that every day of her life. Sometimes a word, a gesture, a look. All saying the same: you don't belong here. Now it often happened that they all asked themselves which of their memories were fake, and how it really happened. Without Dawn.
And also Dawn asked herself: Had her mom really sang her into sleep? One time when she was supposed to go to bed she had asked Buffy, but the Scoobys were just talking about the newest demon in town and Buffy send her away. Originally Dawn had also, but only for one second, the absurd idea, that Buffy could sing for her. That she could be the one who brought her to bed, gave her a kiss and most important of all: loved her. But then Dawn came back to reality again and reminded herself that she was already fifteen, too old for this childish behaviour, and old enough to go to bed on her own. Deep inside of her she was hurt, more hurt then anytime before. Because, if Buffy didn't want to sing for her, that mend she didn't love her. Dawn forced herself to be strong, to not cry and show how she felt. And they all helped her with their coldness. Dawn got just as cold as they were.
But in this one night, the coldness got too much. She had to do something against it. She decided to make Buffy sing for her.
Later that night Dawn finally felt warm. She sat in front of the house and let the flames warm her up. And she listened to Buffy.
Somewhere in the background she heard voices, screams and then suddenly Spike was there, grabbing her at the shoulders, asking her where all the others were.
And she looked at him and answered: "Can't you hear her? Buffy is singing for me."
Then she began to smile again. She turned to the house again to listen and noticed that Spike was now running to the house but couldn't get into it. The flames were just too big. But Dawn didn't care anymore. She turned away from the house and walked down to the street. Nobody seemed to notice her in the big crowd of neighbours who all had woken up. She walked a long time trough the streets of Sunnydale, always humming the song her mother had sang. After some time she heard a voice behind her.
"Why are you walking all alone, little puppy? Has your owner send you out at night, leaving the poor little baby all alone? Outside its not good for a puppy, cause many nasty big doggies are waiting for you to eat you all up!"
Dawn turned and saw a woman with long dark hair and in a black dress standing in front of her. „But I'm not alone. Can't you see that? Lady Moon is following me everywhere. And she sings for me."
The women now started to smile and closed her eyes. "Oh yes, she is singing in the sweetest voices. She also sings for me, every night, but nobody could hear her before, only me. " Then she opened her eyes "But you are like me. Lady Moon's child. You should come to me, so that we can be together with her, listening and dancing to her song" She took Dawns hand and danced trough the streets of Sunnydale together, singing the song of Lady Moon.
"Lady Moon, Lady Moon, where are you roving?
Over the sea.
Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?
All that love me"
