OOC: Saving...Posts....Etc.
I see her face every night in my dreams. And they are dreams, because not all of them are nightmares. Some? Sure. But I expected that. Her name's been on the tip of my tongue since last February.
The good dreams are the worst: the ones where no one ends up in a crumpled heap on the stairs like a marionette with all the strings cut; blood turning her hair a deep auburn it never was. Nightmares can't hold a candle to beautiful things. It's like they're not even trying.
I see her face every night in my dreams, so I'm not surprised when I start to see her awake as well. I'm not going crazy. This is Sunnydale. That shit happens. I'd haunt the guy who killed me too.
But Trina never yells like I expect her to; like she did/would have in life. Ghostly, corpse-cold, barely corporeal fingers never close around my throat. She never strangles me in my sleep.
She never says anything at all.
She hangs out in my peripheral vision, at times like this when I'm alone in, or the only one awake in the lair, and more often than not if I turn and try to look at her, actually look, she's gone. She doesn't seem angry. She looks fine; good. I've stopped turning my head so she'll stay longer. I spread out my plans when she's around so she can see them. So she can understand what I've been trying to do. So she'll know how much of it was for her and I can explain like she never let me...like she never would have let me.
It was a mistake. A stupid mistake, but I can't take it back, and it's not like I'm solely to blame. If she'd just listened...
But like I said: can't take it back.
I think she's starting to understand. I think she's here for a reason, and not just to torture me. Because it's not torture, seeing her again. And I know she knows how to hurt a guy.
When she's ready, she'll tell me what she wants; what I have to do.
I'll do it.
Meanwhile: everything else is on target. Summers is actually out of commission, which almost seems anticlimactic. Not that I'm complaining. And I'm proud of Andrew. He came through. He's the guy who brought down the Slayer. Good for him.
I shift in my seat and listen to the sound of my own heartbeat. I can probably stop waiting: I don't think she's coming tonight.
Maybe I'll watch TV instead.