I'm sorry. I tried to be good--

No. Try again.

I wish you were here to stop me, but you're out with him again--

No. That's not it either.

I only wanted you to at least pretend you cared...

Yeah, that's the one. Just pretend, at least, just loosen up when you hug me, don't be so stiff. I won't break and neither will you, I'm already broken and you don't care. Why won't you love me, Buffy? Is it because I have Mom in my eyes? Because every night you were gone Slaying I'd curl up in her lap with my thumb in my mouth and I was her little baby, her little Punkin Belly, and we had a book club together and we made dinner together and you had to go save the world...

Someone had to do it. But someone had to be Mom's baby, too. Luck of the draw I got to play that part. Are you jealous? Are you jealous of me now, because I had Mom and you had the world? Be jealous all you want. You have Giles. Who do I have? I have a memory of being curled around the Bot with my thumb in my mouth again and my fingers tangling in her hair. I sat in her lap, she hugged me, she told me stories about dragons who fly people around on their backs...

Me and a .35 at point blank range. Razors are too messy. Pills and gas and a rope.

We could have had a book club, you and me, Buffy. You and me, I could have been your little Punkin Belly too. You could have had me, I was just waiting. You could have pulled me into your lap and told me a pretty lie and kissed my forehead. Why didn't you tell me about Mom? Did you see her? Did you get to fucking see her and have her to yourself for all those months, and years, and however long you were gone? You never told me!

Calm down, I can calm down and it won't hurt anymore. I hate to think about you. I hate that you're never here, you're with him because he makes you feel whatever he makes you feel. What about me? What about me. No, these won't be the last thoughts that I have.

The Bot, she was ruined... she talked to me, she told me where you were because she knew, somehow she knew, that I needed you. She couldn't know that I'd rather have her. I'd rather have the Buffy that held me during the night and braided my hair and kissed my forehead. Doesn't it make you sick that a machine was less mechanical than you are?

Me and a .35 at point blank range. Pills can be pumped back up. Gas and a rope.

I wish I could tell you all this, but it's not worth sticking around for. You're not worth sticking around for, not anymore. I'll see Mom, too. I'm just a kid. All children go to heaven, and all grown-up Slayers who act like children don't. Maybe I'm just scared for you, because maybe you won't get to go back. Maybe it's in like All Dogs Go To Heaven, you can never come back, you can never come back...

How long will it take you to find me? I bet Tara finds me first. She doesn't even live here anymore, and she'll find me first. That should tell you something, Buffy. Why is everything so fragmented? I'm not making any sense and I still haven't written anything. I hate you. I love you. I wanted us to have a book club. I wanted you to take care of me. I wanted you to be the one that wrapped yourself around me, engulfed me in your arms and loved me loved me loved me and held me and made me feel like I was worth a little bit of your time.

Maybe I'm selfish. A selfish, stupid child. But I'm only sixteen, Buffy, I'm only sixteen. I am a child. I still sleep with a stuffed bear. I suck my thumb when I'm sick or scared. I like Rugrats bandaids. My favorite movie is still The Fox & The Hound.

Me and a .35 at point blank range. Gas takes too long. Rope is too complicated.

Buffy, I'm sixteen years old... I don't want to die. But you're not here to save me, are you?

I've thought about it a million times a day. Sat here with the safety on, wasting my time. Wasting my life. Now I'm just speeding up the process. I won't be your burden, and you won't be my source. A source, Buffy, do you know what that is? It's a root. A beginning. The event or time in your life that effected a certain path you took. If I grew up, you'd be my source, my bitterness, the love I never got, the sister I never had.

Don't worry, I'm not serious. I'm just playing, because the safety's on and it feels cool against my forehead. And I'm laying here alone. Just toying with the idea, maybe.. Maybe not. Maybe it's just so different this time.. Maybe, if I had woken up and come in and you'd been here in your bed like I am now, and I could have just seen you and known you were here even if you didn't care... But you weren't, were you?

Were you?

You're never here. I didn't ask for you to be everything for me... I asked for me to be everything to you. I asked for you to love me. We could have had a book club, you and me. We could have had the world.

Me and a .35. Point blank range. Safety's not on this time.

It could have been different.