I Knew
by Shirlz

I always thought I'd know, that I'd feel it. That one moment I would be doing something and the next I would be suffering from gut wrenching, soul destroying, heart shattering agony. But I was wrong. There was nothing. And somehow that makes it even worse.

I was cooking breakfast for Wesley and Cordelia when Whistler turned up. Even though the grief was plainly written all over his face my soul stubbornly refused to believe it. He placed a carved wooden box into my hands and told me that I was needed in Sunnydale.

I've probably read your letter a hundred times now and I still don't think it has really sunk in. Even as I sit here, surrounded by your family and friends and shaking like the proverbial leaf, I don't think I've truly accepted that you've gone. I keep expecting you to bounce into the room and suggest that we all hit the Bronze.

I don't know how I am going to do this. How am I going to get them to work with me when some of them want nothing less than my death?

I miss you. I can still feel your delicate form encircled by my arms, your breath upon my neck and your heart beating against my chest. I miss your warmth, your smile, your love, I miss everything about you. How am I going to carry on?

You were right, I did smile when I read the part where you said it was always me. It was always you too, I'm glad you realized that. If there was ever a time you thought otherwise then forgive me.

God I'm so sorry I let you down. I failed you and now you're dead. Too busy staying away for your own good to realize that what you really needed was me watching your back.

Riley is glaring at me. From his look, I can tell that he would like nothing better than to slam a stake into my undead heart. Try it little boy. Where were his manly shows of strength when you were getting your head caved in by a Tracheous demon? I bet he screamed and ran in the opposite direction. Yeah, you just try it on with me and see what damage a really pissed off demon can do.

Angelus is devastated. I can feel his misery coursing through me like an electric current. It is hard to tell where his pain ends and mine begins. Both of us loved you with a passion. Both of us wanted you. You were our mate. And now you're gone.

I hate it that you had the time to sit and plan your funeral. You were only twenty. At twenty you should have been worrying about clothes, hair, and make-up. Instead you were sitting in your room writing farewell letters to your nearest and dearest. That is not the life I wanted for you.

You were precious, a striking butterfly with sequined wings that shimmered in the breeze. You shouldn't have known about demons and darkness, only light and joy. You were a ray of sun that should have shone forever, a moonbeam that cut a swathe through the night. You brought peace and happiness to everyone you met.

I must stop talking about you in the past tense. I hate myself for doing it. You are not gone. You are not gone. You are not gone.

How am I going to do this Buffy?

Part Three

Feedback: Do Spike and Angelus drink blood and wear leather?

Go here for more of Shirlz's stories.

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page