TITLE: The Dark
AUTHOR: VivaLaMegaaan
CHAPTER RATING: PG-13 I guess. This is my first story so I'm not sure how it works
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Tara. Or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Damn it would be great if I did!
SUMMARY: Tara's never met Willow, and is sat on top of a cliff. << That summary sucks. Please just read
SPOILERS: Nope. Totally AU.
WARNINGS: Character death. Don't shoot me
FEEDBACK: I'd like some constructive criticism, that way if I decide to write something else It can be a zillion times better. Hopefully.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay so I didn't know if I should post this here. When I was writing it I had Tara in mind, but unless your a fan of the show then you wouldn't guess. If it needs to be moved elsewhere tell me please
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Life. It’s incredibly short, and pointless. Pointless because no matter who you are, or where you come from it doesn’t mean anything anymore.
Look at me, the shy quiet girl who never causes trouble is blamed for everything by him. I didn’t ask to be born a girl, infact if it was my choice I would have never been born at all.
I’m known as the disgrace as the family because I refuse to play a part in his act, his game. It’s hypocritical for him to think I’m not normal; I wonder if he’s looked in the mirror recently. Sexist pig.
My mother used to take most of the beatings for me, until she died. The funeral was a silent and solemn affair, just me and my father attended.
She was kept a prisoner in her own home, she wasn’t allowed to make any friends. That’s not a woman’s place, apparently.
I stroked the deep purple bruise on the side of my face, a constant reminder of the fateful night just after the funeral.
My back starts to tingle, and the hairs on the nape of my neck stand to attention as I reminisce. I refuse to take my shirt off in front of anyone anymore, my back has been damaged beyond repair.
To outsiders, I may have had an acceptable childhood but they didn’t see what went on behind closed doors. The abuse I suffered at the hands of my own father fills me with revulsion.
He never bothered to tell what I’d done wrong. It wasn’t like he’d taken the time to get to know me but it’s too late now, here I am sat on top of this infamous cliff face.
I glance down at the vicious waves crashing against the razor sharp rocks below, the water splashing feet into the air, like a bomb exploding and ripping everything in it’s path to pieces.
I kick off my left shoe and watch it fall for what seems like eternity before it hit’s the water. It splits in half at the impact, floats for a second and then sinks into the murky grey waves, never to be seen again.
I shiver, the movement giving me shooting pains up my arm. I’ve begun to become accustomed to the pain, I’m just glad to feel something even after all this time.
I feel like I’ve been in a trance like state since my mother abandoned me. Even the broken bones didn’t phase me, if anything the pain was comforting.
It was the only feeling I had and it proved to me I wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway.
I’ve been called a screw-up, a waste of space and good for nothing by the people who supposedly care the most about me.
I guess that’s why I decided to cut myself off from society, it was only a matter of time before people started figuring out the truth, and my own company proves more than adequate.
Living like thins means I’m safe…within the confines of my mind anyway.
It’s odd. Sitting up here, even with the deafening crash of the waves, I can think clearer than I have for a long time. Perhaps the relentless wind has finally cleared the cobwebs out of my mind, leaving me free to think without the ghosts of my past clouding my judgement.
It’s obvious to me there is no place for me in this day and age, not when it’s so cold and empty. People say hell is a place you go when you die but they’re wrong. This place here, this place populated by billions who call it their home. Earth is the true hell.
I shift my weight from one leg to another. Rocks start to crumble, crashing into the ocean with an inaudible splash.
I feel like I’m balancing on the blade of a knife, tip too far one way and I plummet into utter oblivion, yet move slightly in the other direction and I have to stay and face this life. That is quite possibly a fate worse than death.
Lightning explodes, lighting up the sky like a light bulb except a thousand times, and a thousand volts, more deadly. The weather fits my mood, the sky is starless and the atmosphere is sinister.
My stomach is filled with nervous butterflies. I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life but even now I’m beginning to have my doubts. What if it’s not the right decision?
I’m being ridiculous and I know it. I have everything I’ve ever wanted within my grasp and I’m sat here, hundreds of feet above sea-level, arguing with myself.
I’m not religious, maybe if I were I wouldn’t be so terrified right now. Not knowing where I’m going is driving me insane, but I believe that after death all we have is total darkness. I’m not scared of the dark anymore.
Before I lose my nerve I push myself over the edge. It’s exhilarating, the feeling of falling. The wind whips around me and the gravity pulls me down, like a toy on a string. I’m just the play thing of the elements now.
The forces prove too much for me and I’m forced into un-consciousness. I’m dead before the waves can claim me as their own.
THE END