no faith, no hope, no more
I'm writing this to you, cuz, hey, you're all I had left. By the time you get this, well, you know. Sucks not being able to respond, I know, and I'm sorry, but I thought someone might care to know why. I hope someone does.
See that's the thing. I don't know if anyone cares, and I thought I was ok with that. I'm Faith, right? Steel heart that pumps nothin' but adrenaline through the veins. Yep, that's me. Feel nothing, am nothing. Poor me. God I hate this.
Ok, cutting past the pity party I'm sending invites to.
I just got tired. Plain and simple. Sometimes things do have a simple answer. I'm here for what again? Oh yeah, redemption. How the fuck anyone thinks sitting in a cell half the day and getting the fuck beat out of them the other half is nearing me anywhere close to redeemed, I don't know, but that's what I signed up for. Just got tired of it.
Girls here are constantly begging me to kill them. Not in the sense of asking, but in the sense of always trying to throw down with me. And because I refuse to beat them within an inch of their life, because I refuse to build my own rep by beatin' others down, I get the rep of a taker. Two types of people. A giver and a taker. I was never good at the taking. That's probably why I was a giver. Now I'm suddenly a taker and everyone and their grandma is trying to give it. They bring it and I take it because if I were to just let the old me out for one minute, just ONE minute I could scar their psyches long enough to be able to walk from the lunch line to my fucking seat without some bitch telling me how she's gonna give it to me today. But I don't revert. Somehow that's supposed to make me a better person. It isn't. I'm just finding more and more reason why I worked the way I was. I'm just thinking that this new me isn't going to survive here. I was right. I didn't.
Look, I appreciate the visits when you could and the letters too. They were nice. Kind of a reminder. But I read the things you write about that bitch Darla and I read about the way you stopped time from stopping all over the world. Probably while I was busy warding off the small gang of girls who decided I wasn't sleeping that night. Maybe it was a guard that night. I dunno. Anyway, point is, I read all the good you are doing and for what? I mean, I don't want to tell you how to do your job, Angel, but I think someone upstairs is asleep while your redeeming. No one's paying attention, to either of us. You can go on and on, but I draw a line. I have to. All the good you're doing out there and nothing. How promising is it for me when I'm stuck in this shithole not doing a damn bit of good to anyone? If you aren't redeemed yet, what are the chances I'll ever be? I know this is the easy way out, but at least I'm getting out.
I thought about just breaking out and helping you, but then I'm giving myself some credit for being smart. All I'd do is drag you down, because I'd always be hunted as an escapee and how would that help? Besides, Wesley would probably freak the fuck out if I go showin' up on the doorstep. He'd probably turn me in, himself. Shit, fucked up thing is I can't say as I'd blame him. Anyway, breaking out would do me two shits worth of good, so looks like this is the only way to make all this stop. Because I do know it isn't stopping any other way.
I mean, fuck, my state o' mind wasn't 20/20 to begin with. Five by five. Shit that just means I'm hiding and I hate hiding. I've been doing it all my fucking life! Hiding from everyone and I'm done hiding, Angel. I'm really done. But lets just say getting the "Go Directly to Jail, Do Not Pass Go" card isn't doin' much for my mental state. Check my scheduler, I'm always busy. 5 a.m. beatings by the guards before breakfast. Shovelin' pasty oatmeal down to get my energy for my daily humiliations, because I couldn't fucking just show them how good I can be. I can't just go all out and bring it myself. Fuck no. I might be safe doing things that way. Wouldn't want that. Shower times are great. Then is lock up and lock down. But I don't mind lock down. At least then I'm locked in and away from them all. Usually. Some nights I don't see my own cell all night. Guards need their work out. Wouldn't want them getting fat from the constant sitting around and eating.
I thought I canceled the invites to this party?
Anyway. I'm out. Just wanted to check in and let someone know what's up and why the next time you see me I'll be in the ground. Least this way another slayer can be chosen to help B. She's probably got her hands full, and I know I wasn't really any help to her. Maybe the next one will be.
How do you say goodbye? I was never good at that. I was better at just skipping out when goodbye became necessary. So, I guess that's what I'll do. Skip out.
d e a d l e t t e r s h o m e