Date: September 13, 2002 2:46 P.M.
To: firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org, email@example.com, firstname.lastname@example.org
By the time you get this, I'll probably already be gone. Who am I kidding? You probably don't even care. To you all, it's fan-fucking-tastic that I've kicked the bucket. Whoever thought a girl like me'd take the coward's way out? I'm sick and tired of trying to save face in front of everyone. I'm tired of lying to Angel every time he comes to visit me. I'm tired of looking in the mirror and seeing nothing inside but a dead, empty shell of a Slayer that's been crushed and trampled on.
Every day I wake up with a broken heart. There's got to be something more. I'm a fighter, but it's not the demons and the vamps I've been fighting. It's myself. I feel so defeated, so helpless.
I've made my choice. It's not going to change.
You guys are probably wonder how I can write this. Well, see, here's the thing. I snuck out of jail. I'm out. I'm tired of being kicked, punched, used as someone's bitch, and not able to do anything about it. I'm not going to waste away my years in jail. Besides, one dies, the next is called, right? I'm just one in a line of many. Just because I have a destiny that classifies as number one in the 'high risk' file doesn't mean I can't live a long, healthy life...or die next week. My life is no more different than the average human's. I could step out into the street the next day and get hit by a car.
That's what makes life so dear: the not knowing.
B was the one thing in my life that made sense. The one thing that kept me sane when I was on the edge. When I kissed her, it felt right. She pretended to be Little Miss Perfect, but underneath she had that wild streak that made me hot for her. She would say my name in that way that made my insides go all fluttery. Dammit, just the thought of her has me spewing this poetry shit.
I was such a slut in Sunny D. Had the best fucks with Red, Xander, Giles, Tara. That's one of the reasons I didn't want to go back. Too many memories.
I went over to L.A., screwed Cordy and Wesley. But Fred was the one that changed it all. That girl was my comfort, my relief from everything. I was out on parole when I met her. She was shy, afraid, but later I learned that she had quite the voice when she was worked up. Sometimes we wouldn't even wait two or three minutes before screwing like rabbits. I was in love with everything about her. Her hair, her eyes, her temper.
I'm sorry, Fred. Buffy. Everyone else. I just feel like I have nothing left... no reason for me to stay here anymore.
I wish you could understand.
But we're always going to be five by five.
d e a d l e t t e r s h o m e