one memory
I wouldn't want to remember this life, not if I couldn't see anyone I love
again. Maybe I'd deserve that, but for the purposes of this question...
A fresh start? If that's even possible. Then again, when have the so called PTB
ever been that fair?
If you mean, what one memory is most precious to me, that'd depend on whether you mean
my memories or someone else's. I'm thinking of one that I'm not sure ever existed. I'd hope it did.
I've told friends and family that I love them, but not that often in words. Those aren't that easy for me. That may sound weird from someone who's a total chatterbox,
but quantity doesn't have to equal quality. Sometimes talking a lot is no more than a way to get around saying things you can't stand to hear, or that will just cause trouble, true or not.
Last year, not long after I moved to Boston permanently. I was hurt. I was out hunting, anything NOT to think, and ran into a Lantan demon. For those of you who'd be scratching their heads and wonder 'what the hell is that'-- 'soul drinker' is another name for them in the books. They're never that common. And your average or
powerful mage is about as much good against them as spitting in the ocean. They suck up energies like a baby drinking milk.
And here's me with only stakes and holy water. Which, yes, holy objects work on them,
but getting that close? Not a good idea! VERY not.
He chased me up into an office building. I can't imagine what the cleaning crew thought. I didn't slow down to explain. Hit the elevator and went all the way to the
top.
Which was a roof.
One tip here. You get cornered by a demon on top of a fifteen-story building?
Don't look down!
Someone yelled at him from behind. I looked over, and--
Ghosts aren't safe from this thing either. They're a little better off, but...
She knew.
I grabbed the back of his jacket and jumped. Pulled him off with me and let go.
I landed on the fire escape, just barely. One of those stunts you only pull off
successfully ONCE, I think. I was black and blue for weeks.
No one was there when I climbed back up.
I hurt, but also, I was alone. I had to think.
I had been trying to come up with a way to--to stop fighting. It finally got through
my thick skull that if I did, I'd be hurting as many people by my absence as by
what I'd already done. I loved her--but
Love isn't about words. It's about what one does.
I just hope she knew I'd finally understood.
That she went on to remember, or forget, and be happy. Knowing that would be great.
Theoretically.
Muse: Willow Rosenberg
Fandom: BTVS
Word count: 481
again. Maybe I'd deserve that, but for the purposes of this question...
A fresh start? If that's even possible. Then again, when have the so called PTB
ever been that fair?
If you mean, what one memory is most precious to me, that'd depend on whether you mean
my memories or someone else's. I'm thinking of one that I'm not sure ever existed. I'd hope it did.
I've told friends and family that I love them, but not that often in words. Those aren't that easy for me. That may sound weird from someone who's a total chatterbox,
but quantity doesn't have to equal quality. Sometimes talking a lot is no more than a way to get around saying things you can't stand to hear, or that will just cause trouble, true or not.
Last year, not long after I moved to Boston permanently. I was hurt. I was out hunting, anything NOT to think, and ran into a Lantan demon. For those of you who'd be scratching their heads and wonder 'what the hell is that'-- 'soul drinker' is another name for them in the books. They're never that common. And your average or
powerful mage is about as much good against them as spitting in the ocean. They suck up energies like a baby drinking milk.
And here's me with only stakes and holy water. Which, yes, holy objects work on them,
but getting that close? Not a good idea! VERY not.
He chased me up into an office building. I can't imagine what the cleaning crew thought. I didn't slow down to explain. Hit the elevator and went all the way to the
top.
Which was a roof.
One tip here. You get cornered by a demon on top of a fifteen-story building?
Don't look down!
Someone yelled at him from behind. I looked over, and--
Ghosts aren't safe from this thing either. They're a little better off, but...
She knew.
I grabbed the back of his jacket and jumped. Pulled him off with me and let go.
I landed on the fire escape, just barely. One of those stunts you only pull off
successfully ONCE, I think. I was black and blue for weeks.
No one was there when I climbed back up.
I hurt, but also, I was alone. I had to think.
I had been trying to come up with a way to--to stop fighting. It finally got through
my thick skull that if I did, I'd be hurting as many people by my absence as by
what I'd already done. I loved her--but
Love isn't about words. It's about what one does.
I just hope she knew I'd finally understood.
That she went on to remember, or forget, and be happy. Knowing that would be great.
Theoretically.
Muse: Willow Rosenberg
Fandom: BTVS
Word count: 481