Dead. AUTHOR: Dark Will ( RATING: R for language and dark thoughts. Verrrrrrrry dark. So dark that I can't even here the voices. Run away, they have. Stupid buggers are 'frade of the dark. Unlike me and Dawnie cakes here. we like the dark. SYNOPSIS: DISCLAIMER: Nope. Nadda. Never. No. Noperroni. Nerver-burgger. MAIN CHARTER: Dawn, Dawnie, Dusk-'til-Dawn, Dawwwwwwwwwn. PAIRING: None. Not even one. Nope. Surprised you, didn't I? Sure I did. I even surprise Katie, my friend that for some reason nobody but me can see. Why do you think that is? FEEDBACK: Yes no yes no. I think I like feedback. (What a funny word, ' FEEDBACK' Hehehahahehahe!) But I can't promise an immediate reply as my doctors like to keep me away from the computer, and the only I can get on is when the nurse that dresses all in puke-green is on duty. (I call it 'puke' because the first saw the colour, I puked.) I can only get on then because she like to drink and tends to pass out at her desk, already signed in, might I add. Very helpful, she is. AUTHOR'S NOTE: None, 'cept that if. nevermind. Not important.

I'm not really alive. But that's okay, because I'm not really human. Never was. Its kinda sad, actually, that she died so I could 'live'. I guess I never was alive, but now I'm even deader then I was before. Is 'deader' even a word? How can you be even more then dead? I guess if you're a vampire facing Buffy with a stake. but it wouldn't be Buffy, would it? It would be another girl, chosen to fight vampires and other demons. And can you guess who that lucky girl is? I'll give you a hint. I see her every day. Willow thinks she knows this girl, who was way fortunate to be chosen. But she doesn't. Xander thinks he knows this girl, like he knows himself. Well, that may be true, but only if her knows squat about himself. Anya treats this girl like chicken-shit and hopes Xander will like her for taking the poor, unfortunate soul under her wing. Have you guessed it yet? Yup. I'm the Slayer. But I haven't told anyone. Everybody just assumes that Faith is the only one, as Buffy died already, and therefor her death wouldn't have activated another Slayer. Ignorant assholes. It's kinda ironic, really. When Buffy was around, everybody was trying to take care of me. Holding 'Dawnie's' hand across the road. Spoon-feeding her all of her meals. But once Buffy is dead, and I actually NEED the help? Nobody is around. Xander and Anya are at his place, shagging like rabbits in heat. Giles, who was like a father to me, or so I thought, packed his bags and jumped on the first flight to England, to drown his sorrows in tea and crumpets. And Willow and Tara, whom supposedly moved in to take care of me? The only time they're here is to fuck each other senseless or change their clothing. So it's just me and my thoughts. Sure, Willow got the bot up and running, but I took her off line a month ago. Not that anybody noticed. Not that anybody cared. Nobody cares about anything that doesn't affect them directly. I've really gotta stop doing that, relying on people. They're just going to let you down. Well, not all of them. Buffy wouldn't let me down. I tried to jump, but she chose to die instead. Always the hero. The Slayer until death. And that is the way a Slayer's life is supposed to be. Fight all evil until it kills you. The only other options are to sit back and watch evil take over or help it in it's fight against man kind, and be the reason people are dying. Like Faith did. Damned if you do and damned if you don't. And then, of course, there was Spike. My sister's stalker, granted, but also my protector. Or he was until he died. Yet another death on my head. When I first found out I was Chosen, I ran away, and hid in the old high school. And of coarse Spike, 'Buffy's hero' or so he'd like to be, picked up on my secant and followed me. He must've waited until he thought I was most vulnerable and only then decided to come at me. Only problem is, there were other vampires who had heard of The Key and wanted to feel 'the power as it's life drained from it's human form.' So Spike tried to fight them off, yelling, "Get the hell out of here, bit!" at me. And being the coward I am, I bolted, as he gave his life to save me. Everyone I rely on lets me down. Everybody I love dies. Every single person leaves me. And there is nothing I can do. You know who I blame? Those damn monks. If they had never changed me into a skin-bag, Buffy and Spike would still be alive. But I know that really isn't true. I only tell myself that because I can't face the truth. That I am the one that killed my sister and my protector. I may have not have pushed Buffy off the tower or held the wooden pole that staked Spike, but I might of well have. They died because of me. They died to _protect_ me. So I could live. They must have been lying to themselves, if they believed that my existence could _EVER_ be classified as living. I barely exist, let alone live. But if nobody noticed when Buffy was alive, then they sure as hell won't now. But that is okay. What matters is that they notice what is going on in each other's lives. The way I figure it? If Buffy's death separated them my death'll bring them togeather. Make 'em realize what they lost. Buffy, not me. Nobody'd care that I'd died, except that I'm the closeted thing to Buffy that's alive. And bye tomorrow I'll know if it works. Well, I probably won't, on account of the fact that I'll be dead. But you get what I mean. Or maybe you don't. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore because I'll be dead soon. Very soon. Like, 'tomorrow' soon. And then my 'life' will finally have had meaning. I know that my death won't bring Buffy or Spike back, but maybe it will make their deaths have meaning along with my life. Finally.