California

I'm whisked back to the field behind my best friend Beth's house. I've not seen Beth since I was about 7. We used to play a lot in her yard, as the house I lived in was broken down and the backyard was full of old car parts. My step dad was into that kind of shit. Beth and I were chasing her puppy around, a Pomeranian about six months. Mom and step dad never allowed me to have my own dog, and when I brought one home one day, step dad shot him in a drunken rage. He nearly put my mom in the hospital after she let me give him a proper burial. step dad had a temper when he was drunk, and his fists was always turning mom's face three shades of blue. She was always crying, I never remember her happy as long as step dad was around.

What he had in store for me was much worse.

"I think he's so dreamy!" Beth and I were discussing boys in living room.

"He gets so antsy whenever you kiss his cheek."

"Boys are so weird, I swear, they make no sense." What I'm saying then is what I'm saying now.

"He's no Michael J Fox though!" I say with a dramatic swoon. Beth and I keep laughing, I don't even realize my step dad had walked into the room.

"Faith, get your ass in here!" he shouts at me from the other room.

On a side note, I found mother's bruised up face something of comic relief. The bitch knew what was going on and never once said a thing or tried to stop it. She made Beth leave, who had a scared look on her face, but nothing like what I was wearing right now. I thought this is it, the time I'm getting the big beating, but I wish I would have been beaten then, at least I could have stood that.

The stupid dick makes me sit on his lap. This little prick, who reeks of alcohol and diesel fuel is putting his hands all over me. He has them resting on both of my shoulders.

"Faith, I'm worried about you, you and this whorish attraction you seem to have for boys. You're not a whore are you Faith? Yon'tn't put that cute little mouth of yours on their tiny 7 year old dicks do you?" He then sticks his hand down shirt and rubs roughly over my chest. All of the sudden I feel something hard poking me on my butt. His laugh is creepy and low, sort of like a whisper right in my ear.

I started to cry a bit, not knowing what was happening to me, but I knew it wasn't right or natural.

"You don't fucking cry you little cunt. You even think of screaming Faith and I'll hurt you worse than you could ever imagine."

Then rubs my belly, continuing this lovely chat. I'm crying my eyes out, trying to think of pleasant things to keep my mind off of what's happening to me.

"You know what the best thing about little girls Faith?"

I shake my head no, tears still streaming down my face.

"They're so easy to hurt. I could shatter you like a china doll right now, and there would be nothing you could do about it. And if you want to press your fucking luck, just try screaming for your cunt mommy." This time his laugh is long and loud.

"You know what's the second best thing about little girls Faith?" His voice has this weird tone to it, that in years since I've come to know means only one thing. "They were put on this earth only to serve their stepfathers." He starts laughing in my ear as he puts his hands down my panties. He rubs my crotch very roughly which makes my tears stream down harder. I'm trying not to scream or make any noises, but the pain and fear in me start to throb.

"They're a special treat that were meant only for their stepfathers, nobody else. Would you agree with me Faith?"

I say nothing, petrified beyond belief, not knowing what he's saying, my innocent mind not quite understanding anything at all of what's going on right now. He takes his hand out of my pants for a second to cover my mouth, and squeezes my nipple with other one. I scream loud into his hand and the tears flow heavier now.

"Don't you agree, goddammit, Faith, don't you agree?"

I shake my head yes, agreeing with him.

"So you're all mine now? I can do with your body whatever I want to?" I keep shaking my head yes, not sure what he means.

Then I feel a hot splatter go on the back of my panties. At first I thought I shat myself, but I hear him moaning and exhaling sharply. "Oh God, Faith, you're going to be worth something in this life after all. How does it feel to be daddy's little come catcher?" He laughs that same sick laugh in my ear.

I vomit all over his hand, he's quick to take it away and shake it.

"God fucking damn it! You stupid cunt! What's wrong with you, whore?"

He pushes me to the floor, towering above me, trying to scare me, and it's working. His erection throbs inches from my face, an angry color red.

"Don't scream you fucking cunt, or I'll make this worse on your than I have to!"

I could see my mother in the other room, out of the corner of my eye. She knew exactly what was going on and did nothing to stop it. She's pretending to read some fucking romance novel book, where everybody falls in love and only fucks the one they truly love, not the one they truly love's child.

I feel my panties being ripped off; loud thunder is crashing in the sky as I fight from sleep, trying to wake myself from Hell. The thunder keeps crashing, echoing in my head the same confusion I felt. My world is a totally vast empty space, just like my soul.

Finally I realize the crashing thunder is outside and I awake in a dark room. It seems Jenny had drawn my blinds before she left. I run to vomit, feeling the day's meal coming up.

Looking at myself in the mirror I do the only thing I feel like doing. Punching the mirror with all the force I can muster, it shatters, leaving just the wooden board behind it. I feel much better not having to look at myself in times like this.

It had happened again, I had another dream about that bastard. Last time I had one, was the night I killed Finch while Buffy and I was on patrol. I start to get the fear again, the fear of being trapped, or being caged. I know I can't go back to that place, but right now I'm fearing that I'm gonna go too far with Jack. Every time I think of the word Jack I'm reminded of my stepfather's face. The more it reminds me, the more desire I feel to hop the bus and go cross town.

My hands are all cut up and bloody, I be sure to wash and clean them so nobody on the bus becomes suspicious. I can see the headlines now, "Local girl back in prison after hopping bus."

I had a special kit made up, one that Jenny knows nothing about ready for the time when I can finally get free and do what I have to do to Jack. Jenny left a note in the kitchen:

"Be back at 11, sorry so late, big youth conference tonight. Order pizza and anything else you want on my dad's account if you like! Luvs and hugs, Jenny."

On the bus ride over to the campus, I keep wondering how my life would have been different, had I been raised the way Jenny was. I wonder what Melody Valentine is doing right now, if she's cuddling up with Josie and Val, what they're watching on TV. But strangely, most of all, I wonder right now if anybody can see the scars on my wrists. When I was 10 I finally tried to end it all. That is wh was was taken away and left with my grandmother. If only I could have been her child, but wishing is for people who have nothing better to do.

"I'm a soldier in the Lord's Army," I hum to myself as I step off the bus. Lucky for me, Jack's building is right in front of me, now to hope I got him at a good time.

"Third floor, room 86." I'emoremorized this, yet in these situations I tend to forget. The bag I'm carrying weights a ton, or so it feels that way. Nothing metal, can't have those metal detectors that were installed post September 11 go off.

Oh, my timing is good. You'd think this was fiction how well this is playing out, but just as Jack is about to leave his office, I walk in and close the door, locking it with a key I found in the janitor's closet.

"Hi, Jack, want to have some fun?"

If you could only have seen the look in his eyes at that moment.