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Three days later, I was walking out of the hospital under my own steam. My legs weren't totally a hundred percent, the cuts had been pretty bad, but the staff were efficient and good at their jobs, and so my stay was ended. It really hadn't been as horrific as my overactive and seriously bored brain had started to imagine, but I was glad to be gone.

I had had way too much time to think while I was stuck, bored and alone, in there. Obviously, I had been thinking first and foremost of what had happened. I had jumped. Tried to kill myself, attempted suicide.

No matter how I said it, it sounded bad to me. I didn't regret it, though. That one act (jumping, not thinking) had led me to my next conclusions.

I don't want to die. That thought seemed a little bit- okay, a lot- at odds with my past actions and my previous thoughts. It was true, nonetheless. My jump, and the fear that had followed, had shown me that I wanted to live. I didn't want the empty existence that I had for myself here. I wanted to really get out there and live, enjoy myself, not be the meek worthless little mouse who never stepped out of line that I was here.

I had to go. Sunnydale wasn't for me anymore, if it ever was. There were too many memories here, ones that would only keep me in my bad space.

Too many memories, and too much history. I wanted to start totally new.

I planned to clean out my bank accounts, take my laptop, and get on the next bus to LA. From there I could decide in relative peace what to do next. I still needed a lot of serious thinking time.

All of my doubts, fears, and insecurities weren't gone- not by a long shot. On the contrary, they were circling me, waiting for me to be distracted from my plans and preparations long enough for them to swoop in and take a hold of me again.

I shook them away for now, and hailed a cab.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I contemplated the ordeal before me- nothing I had done so far had come close to preparing me for this. I was practically shaking with fear, and yet the outcome was inevitable.

I took a deep breath, gathered my courage, and stepped onto the bus. Finding a seat fairly quickly near the back of the bus, I placed my bag on the seat next to me. The bus wouldn't be very crowded, but I wanted to be sure. I couldn't risk seeing anyone I knew, and dealing with someone else? Not on my top ten list of things to do. At the very least, they would stare the whole trip at the tearstains on my face or the fading bruises decorating my skin. Ick.

I was running pretty much on autopilot. For the last two days I had been incredibly busy. I had hacked into the school's database and copied my transcripts, and saved them all to my laptop. Huge amounts of luggage had been accumulated from my near-continuous packing, and almost as much discarded in fits of worry.

I'd altered the school's database this morning, waiting until the last possible second. My goal was to utilize my status as 'invisible' and have it be a mighty long time before anyone realized I was gone.

I planned to start completely fresh in LA, and that meant inventing a completely new beginning for myself. Of course, I had a shortcut- all I would have to do was edit the Sunnydale transcript a little and I'd be good to go.

I had also taken everything I could from the bank, and was planning on hacking it later to get what I couldn't today. It had to be as near to my departure as possible so no one noticed before I could leave. Of course, that would mean they noticed me at all. Yeah, right. Accordingly, I was really freaking tired.

Sitting now, the thoughts that had been battering at my mental defenses ever since I decided to leave yesterday burst through into my brain with a vengeance. Oh, and they brought friends! Lovely. I'd almost forgotten just how horrible I could feel, having been way too busy the last couple of days to dwell on my insignificance. Now, though…

Wrong. Worthless. Good-for-nothing, no one wants you, you should run, it's what you deserve, useless pathetic stupid ugly little bitch, why didn't you just finish it the first time, go back to the cliff and stay there, do something right for once, you're bad worthless wrong worthless useless worthless makeitstop MAKEITSTOPMAKEITSTOP!

I was sobbing, shaking, shuddering, clutching my bag to my chest like it could save me from my mind. My head was pounding and my heart raced wildly, totally out of control. Why can't I just be a normal girl? That's all I want. Just… normal.

Wiping my eyes, I shook my head at my own naïveté. I would never be normal, and really should be used to that by now. Idly, I wondered what had happened to my numbness of just a few weeks ago. Maybe this isn't such a good idea, with me so emotional.

With a jolt I realized that even if I had second thoughts, they were pointless now. The bus had started and moved off from the station while I was wrapped up in my head. I turned in my seat and watched the only home I had ever known recede into the distance.

I turned around and faced my future.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I stared over the familiar landscape of Sunnydale, spread out before me in all it's glory. Standing at the top of Kingman's Bluff, I watched as the teeny people below went about their day-to-day lives. Then I took a second look.

Fires danced through the streets, menacing all the passers-by. I saw a trio of girls trapped in a shop, and two more guys running from the approaching blaze. Everywhere, people screamed and fled, some falling and being trampled by the uncaring mob.

Without even stopping to think, I sprinted towards the chaos that had so suddenly unfolded before my eyes. At first I just thought I wasn't running fast enough, and redoubled my pace. But no, the second I got to the bottom of the bluff, I was right back where I started.

Why couldn't I reach them? I had to help them! They needed me! I helped them, that's what I did! So why couldn't I help them now?

All of a sudden, a new face entered my view. I shouldn't have been able to make it out, I was too far away, but I could see perfectly. It was another girl, slightly taller and more muscular than me. Long, red hair, reminiscent of the flames, fell gracefully down her back. She was radiant in all aspects, except for one- she was faceless. It was like a veil hung over her, but I knew that beneath the veil, she was beautiful.

She was everything I should have been, could have been.

With an economy of movements, she calmed the panicking crowd and got them all to safety. Confident they were safe, she turned to the bonfire that Sunnydale had become, and with a single motion, extinguished the flames. In the sudden silence, one word rang in the air: Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

I locked eyes with the girl, and then I was falling.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

I jerked awake, panting for breath, with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was getting some strange stares from some of the bus's other occupants, so I wiped my eyes and got up to visit the bathroom. At the very least, I needed a mirror to assess the damage my nightmare had caused.

Trudging back, I suddenly realized how tired I was. I had just gotten out of nearly a week in a coma, and all of a sudden I was ready to just fall into bed and sleep- forever. I could feel the weight of all my decisions pressing in on me, and it was a nearly physical pressure in me.

My limbs started trembling, faint and unnoticeable to others. Light beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, and I realized that it had been… what, nine days since I cut last? The pressure in my limbs building, I stumbled the last few steps to the bathroom in a daze, closing and locking the door behind me. I sagged against the wall, and took a good look at myself in the mirror.

My eyes widened. I look like death. That was the first thing that came to mind. It was true, though. Deep purple circles had taken up residence under swollen, bloodshot eyes. My skin was a charming grey, colorless except for two spots of red high on my cheekbones. God, I look worse than death.

I splashed some water on my face and turned to leave, the shock of my appearance distracting me from my pain. Out of the corner of my eye a metallic gleam flashed. I froze. Images of blades and blood and relief from the neverending pressure danced before my eyes. Suddenly, I remembered why I came staggering in here in the first place.

Whipping around, I almost fell over when a wave of dizziness overtook me. I lunged for the shiny flash, and pulled out a hand mirror. A growl rose from the back of my throat. The sudden urgency took me completely by surprise, but I needed to cut and I needed to now. I tried to calm my racing mind, recalling that there was a switchblade in my carry-on bag. It was partly for protection, partly for times like now.

I unlocked the door of the tiny cubicle and stepped out, calmly making my way towards my backpack. I didn't want anything making me look unusual or remarkable. When I got there, I contemplated taking the blade out, but dismissed that thought for fear of someone seeing it. I grabbed the whole bag and returned to the room, pain and stress vying for mental domination the whole while.

In what seemed like a second I had the door shut and locked again. I pulled out my knife and dropped everything else unceremoniously on the ground.

Thinking for a minute, I frowned. If I was going to do this, I would have to cut my arms. My pants were white for some unfathomable reason, and would show the bandage underneath. After the incident with the cheerleaders at school, I seemed to be more reluctant to cut where it could be seen.

The emotions swirling through my mind decided it for me. I pulled up my sleeve.