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Disclaimer: Joss owns them, I don't so please don't sue me.
Author's Notes:Sad. It's several years into the future. Vampires are gone, and Buffy is the only slayerette left. Improbable, but it makes for a good story. I hope you enjoy.
I am the last.
The last of a legacy.
The last slayerette.
I knew it would hurt to be the last, but I never expected it to hurt this much. Or for me to be the last.
But I am.
I've watched them all die. I've seen so much. Too much.
Sunnydale's a safer place now, not the way it used to be. Which is good. It's what we fought for. What so many of us died for.
I try to forget.
But I can't. Everywhere I go I see them, see reminders of the life I've left behind.
The world's a safer place now, no such thing as vampires or demons. There gone, we stopped them.
I'm glad. But I wish it had come sooner, if it had maybe things would have been different for us.
Maybe I wouldn't be haunted by terrifying memories. The worst ones aren't the ones reliving their deaths, but the ones when I remember the happy times.
Cordelia and Xander's glowing faces on their wedding day.
The pride on Oz's face when he told us all he had a son.
Willow's glowing face when she told me she was having a baby.
Giles and my mom's quiet and beautiful wedding.
The look of total love on Angel's face as I walked up the alter to him.
Those are the worst part. The reminders of how happy we were.
It isn't fair, I was the slayer. I should have been the one to die.
Not them, not the innocents.
Fate plays it's cruel jokes. I get to live, to have my normal life.
But I have to live with all the pain.
With the memories.
My victory is an empty one, for there's nobody to share it with.
I just want it to be over. It will be soon. It has to be, I can't go on like this. I never thought I'd commit suicide, but I think I will. What other choice do I have? I can't live this life anymore. It's not even living.
I'm empty, hollow. I should have died years ago, in a way I did. My heart died when Angel died. Now it's time for my body to join it. I am the last, and soon I will be gone.
And our world will be gone.
The truth of what happened will die, maybe it's better that way. The world's not ready for a story like that.
No one is.
I wasn't.
Maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's better that everything we lived and worked for will be gone.
Will be forgotten.