[Reviews - 155]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2459 times

- Text Size +




Thanx for the reviews guys. Hope you like this one.

Spike went down to his room and cried. He cried for his Da’, for his mother, for his homesickness, for Buffy and for himself. He didn’t know how long he sat there holding his head in his hands and letting the hurt seep from his eyes. He could taste the salt on his lips and did what he did everytime he got this way. He got angry. He walked across his room to where his punching bag was hanging and let out his frustrations. After a few minutes he took off his sweat soaked shirt but continued beating the bag. The bag that represented all the wrong things in life. God he hated that fucken’ bag.

“Fuck” he roared angrily and threw one last punch to the battered bag before sinking to his knees and drawing in large gulps of air. “You fucken bastard.” He whispered, not speaking to anyone but to life in general.



Buffy woke up with a start. She panicked before realising that she was at home, that she was safe, that she was okay.

She laughed out loud at that. ‘Okay.’ She ran the word through her head a few times. ‘I’ll never be okay again.’ She thought as tears streamed down her face. ‘No one will ever love me now, I don’t even love me.’

She got off the bed and started hurling whatever she could get her hands on at her walls, feeling some satisfaction when she heard an item shatter. She didn’t know how long she’d been doing it or when he had come into her room. She just knew that now there were two strong arms around her. Arms she wasn’t afraid to be in, arms that offered the warmth her body couldn’t give her, they sank to the floor together and held each other. Each lost in their own pain but comforting one another at the same time. Their tears mixed together, silently binding them. Pain is the strongest thing someone can feel, there is pain in almost everything. Love, hate, passion, desire. It can make you weak or make you strong. It can urge you on in life or it can make you give up on it. Pain is necessary. And for the two sitting in the middle of a broken room, with their broken lives and their broken hearts, pain had given them each other. And their was hope in that.



I promise i'll post again soon! Let me know what you think.





You must login (register) to review.