Title: A Little Girl's Dream
Author: KarenMR
Posted: 06-27-2003
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Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
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Notes: This story is a little depressing, sorry about that.
Feedback: Enjoy and please respond.
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I remember when I was a little girl and I thought I could conquer the world. Nothing would hold me back. I could be an astronaut, an explorer, a scientist, a writer, anything that my little heart desired.

Who could have predicted that my heart would desire that I would be a member and office manager of a supernatural private eye business run by a 200 and plus year hold vampire? Certainly not me.

But that is the life that was chosen for me, or should I say that I chose for myself. I could have gotten out early on. On that first fateful night when I came across my first vampire I could have acted like most other Sunnydale residents and write it off as a weird escaped mental patient who was really pale and had a sick obsession with necks or some ridiculous excuse like that. But I didn’t just write it off, I accepted it and I learned about it and I became the one of the Slayer’s groupies.

That was the beginning of the journey that would lead me where I am today. I have battled demons, both real and my own personal demons, and I have forged relationships and friendships that are unparalleled in their love and acceptance.

Listening to this you would probably think that I had the most perfect life a girl who worked for the Powers that Be and knew that there really were things that go bump in the night could imagine.

But at the present time I would have to disagree with you. That is because right now I am sitting in a dimly lit bedroom, watching the man that I love clutch my spiritless hand and cry in silence, all the while not knowing that I look on, unable to communicate with him.

I have attempted to trash the room, mutilate myself, scream at the top of my lungs, do anything and everything that I thought might bring their attention to the fact that I could see and hear everything that is going on. But all my efforts have fallen short.

So I sit here, day after day, and I watch my friends, my family, and the man I love come in here and attempt to carry on conversations with my body, try to pretend that I’m in there and am just a silent participant in the conversation, all the while crying on the inside and begging in silent prayer that I come back to them – just like I do.

This certainly wasn’t what I pictured for myself when I grew up. I guess being comatose and watching your life go by isn’t every girls dream.

End.