Gotta... get away. God, did they buy it? They must have. And I kept my word. I am in the basement with the television on extremely loud. But I can still hear them. Why can I hear them. Better yet, why can't it be me?

But soon I won't have to hear them. I hope Buffy isn't the one who finds me. It would kill her. I know the chance of her finding me is slim, but she still might. The last time she was down here, was to let that waxy demon kill us. If it hadn't been for Tara...

No I can't think about her. If I do, I might come to my senses and not go through with it, like I always have in the past. Right now, it's just me, Jerry Springer, the knife I stole from the kitchen and an empty extra large bottle of Tylenol. Buffy bought it yesterday and it hasn't been opened yet. She usually goes through painkillers like this in two weeks, and I've downed it in two minutes. I can tell the medication has already started to kick in because I'm feeling tizzy all over and if I tried stand up I have a funny feeling I'd just fall back down again. Taking the knife, I slash a deep cut in my arm, this one even deeper the the one I made the night I found out I wasn't real. I raise the knife again, this time going over the reddish purple scar on my arm with so much pressure I know the pills are working because I'd have passed out from the pain if they weren't.

I think of mom, and of how she once told me about her first love, when she found out about my feelings for Tara. Some woman named Lilah Morgan. But Mom never acted on it, and until the day she died, mom always wondered what would have happened if she had gotten the courage to ask her out.

I look down at my arm, surprised to see at least six wounds, all leaking out sticky red blood. I'm amazed at the lack of feeling in my body, and I take the knife and begin to jab it in my leg, causing myself to bleed more, my blood seeping through my jeans.

Suddenly, I'm so tired that I can't keep my eyes open, so I give in and lie down, my head hitting the cement floor with a loud thunk.

'I should be cold,' Are my last coherent thoughts before I pass out. ^~*~!~*~^
'Kill the beast! Kill the beast! Kill the beast!' Come from the television set, and I snuggle deeper into my momma's arms. No matter how many times I see this movie, this part always scares me. I whimper, and momma hugs me tightly. I suck harder on my thumb as she rocks me, saying that the Beast will be okay. Because nothing bad ever happens to the good- guys. I smile, knowing she's right. Moms know everything. Momma will always protect me from the baddies.

When the movie ends, momma gets up and goes to the kitchen to get Buffy's snack ready for when she gets home from school. I know that when she's done, she'll start to make supper, and she will let me help by letting em wash the carrots before she cooks them. I know we're having carrots tonight because daddy asked for them, and momma said we would make him the best glazed carrots ever.

"Oh my god!" I hear Buffy yell, but she sounds older, so I look around, and I can't see anybody. "Dawnie..."

"There's so much blood." A boy says, but there is still no one here.

"Oh my goddess, she took the whole bottle, Will." I know this voice. I try to remember where I've heard it, but I can't. All I know is that I like it. Even better then my momma's, my daddy's or Buffy's.

"She's lost too much blood." Buffy says, and I don't like it. She sounds so scared and I don't like all this talk about blood. Blood is bad. Blood means someone is hurting.

"Momma?" I ask, scared.

"Call 911, Will! She's going to die if we don't get some help!" Will. I recognize the name, but I can't remember where I've heard it before. But I know I hate it as much as I like the voice that is speaking it. Because it is the one from before. The one I like the best. Suddenly, there's blood dripping from the walls, and I scream. ^~*~!~*~^
I open my eyes, and look around the room. I'm in a hospital bed, and there's a blonde girl hovering above me, who looks kinda like Buffy, but is a lot older.

"Dawn!" She yells, making me wince.

"Where am I? Where's my momma?" I ask, panicking. The girl blinks repeatedly.

"What are you talking about?" She asks me.

"WHERE IS MY MOMMA?" I shriek at her. "I WANT MY MOMMA!"

"That isn't funny, Dawn!" The girl tells me, almost yelling again.

"Who are you?" I demand. "Where is my momma?!?"

"I'm your sister." I glair at the girl.

"You're not my sister. Buffy is my sister."

"I am Buffy."

"NO YOU'RE NOT! BUFFY IS NINE! BUFFY IS MY SISTER!" I scream, and I try to sit up, but I'm to tired. "I WANT MY MOMMA!" Then the doctors come in and stick me with a needle that makes me go to sleep.


When I wake up this time, there is a different girl in the chair next to me. But I know this girl. I like her.

"Hey, Dawnie." She says. I smile, and she smiles back.


"Do you know who I am?" She asks me.

"You're Tara." I tell her. "I like you." She smiles again.

"I like you too, Dawn." I frown.

"No you don't." I remind her. "You like..." I pause, trying to remember. "You like the red girl with the funny tree name." Tara frowns, and tries to think about what I have just said. "I don't like that girl. I don't like the lying girl who said she was Buffy, either." I suddenly feel very dizzy. "Tara?" I ask, really scared.

"Yes?" She asks softly, sounding like she is very far away, instead of right beside me.

"Something's wrong." Tara leans down and kisses my forehead, before running out to get the doctors.

Somehow, I know that she is the last thing I will ever see, but for some reason, that's okay with me.

I'm going to see my momma.