By Hecate
In the beginning I thought slayer
strength is a good thing. But I learned it isn’t. You have all these super
powers, but that doesn’t make you a
superhero.
It just makes you strong
physically. Nothing else. My powers just came to me and then men in suits came,
telling me I’m the slayer. I’m the Chosen One.
/razor gliding over skin/
And then they left me and sent me a
watcher. Someone to take care of me, to teach me how to slay. And then my
watcher was killed. With my stake. Funny
thing if you think about it. I
don’t.
/blood running/
So I had all this superhuman powers
and no watcher. And I searched someone to hold on. And found Buffy. Jesus
fucking Christ. Buffy of all people.
The girl with the perfect life. And
I thought I could find a place there with her. How dumb was that?
/a small pool of red on the ground/
Well, it was my fault, too. I
didn’t let her help me I guess. That’s what they tell me. But I’m not listening
to them, anyway. They have no idea what
is going on
/razor gliding back/
Angel tells me it will get better.
I guess he really believes that. But he also believes he can really help
people. Poor fool.
/blood running through fingers/
When I was still out I tried to get
drunk. But I couldn’t make it. Yeah, I got tipsy and all but it was never
enough to forget. It all just got blurry, but it
was still there. Finch, the knife,
the blood. His death.
/vicious stab with the razor into
tender skin/
Buffy’s face of complete horror and
disbelief. And us, running. The Chosen Two running. Buffy coming to me the next
day. Lecturing me, me turning
her down. It doesn’t matter
anymore.
/blood stops running/
And in here, there is just one way
to help me, to make me feel better. But it doesn’t really help.. It doesn’t
make a real difference.
/blood dries/
Because I just can’t leave traces
on me. On my body. I cut myself again and again and then I lean back and close
my eyes. I count to ten.
/wounds close/
When I open my eyes again the cuts
are healed and there’s just dried blood on my skin. A rusty red that crackles
when I touch it, is the only
sign of what I’ve done.
/skin heals/
And I have to start over again.
/razor glides over skin/
I promised Angel that I try to make
things better.
End
Disclaimer: Characters aren’t mine