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30 November 2005 @ 07:21 pm
to be or not to be daylightfadings  
I think there's always something we don't like about ourselves; something like we have a big nose or our hair just doesn't sit right. I wish I worried about stupid things like that. And I'm not even trying to complain about the life I live, with vampires and demons and evil. Where people I care about have to go down to the freakin' underworld to deal with some stupid wraith whose going to make everyones life a living hell. I mean that's not always fun, people always being in danger but it's my life.

I guess my biggest issue isn't even one anyone knows about, at least nothing I ever really talk about with anyone. I'm sure if you asked anyone they'd say how I'm so tired of being in Buffy's shadow and I think she should get that she's not the center of the whole damn universe. While some of that is always going to be true I'm over trying to get out of Buffy's shadow, hoping and waiting for it to happen, it won't. Honestly though it's not anyones fault, it's just how the cookie crumbles and every other cliche' I could spout out about it.

I have good friends, some of them I only have because of Buffy, like I'm going to complain about knowing Xander or Willow? As if I'd ever have met people like them without Buffy? This is me not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Sure I mean Buffy totally pisses me off all the time and she can act like a bigger brat than me on occasion, and everyone knows thats a feat, I still love her. She's Buffy and she shouldn't change because people think she's self righteous or whatever. They should try to be in her shoes; god knows I wouldn't have gotten past the master if it were me instead of her.


I'm even over the not being real thing; I joke about it sure, because it's always going to sting when I think back on the memories that I never actually took part in. When I see a picture or everyone trades stories and I look down at my hands because I wasn't really there.

I always wonder something though and it makes me want to leave this place and hide. I've been thinking about it for a while. Leaving I mean; I don't do much good around here ever and no one really seems to like having me around anyway. I mean I'm going to be 18 in a few weeks and I don't thik even Buffy remembers. Why should she though? My birthday is just a random day picked out of a calendar year that the monks choose for me. I used to think about changing it and picking another day, something more significant, like maybe the day Spike and I found out I wasn't real.

But I do think about leaving. I know Buffy would miss me, but I think do I want this life? Do I want to dedicate my entire life to being a slayerette like Willow and Xander did? It's not that I think they don't have purpose because god knows our world would be way different without them. But is that what I want? I used to think it was, my home is with Buffy, I really feel that down to my core but something always sticks out in my mind.

. . . a soul changes you . . .

I never told anyone what I thought; it's not like I feel evil or something, but not having a soul wouldn't automatically make me evil would it?

I'm not sure I have a soul. It may sound like I'm reaching but really think about it. Sure obviously the monks have enough power to make a human, but they used Buffy's blood, made me out of her. I don't think they'd have the power to create a soul, do I even have a soul? And if I don't what does that make me? What if they all find out and then what? I could be corruptable or hell maybe I'm still active as the key and someone could kidnap me and unleash hell on the world.

Do I stil around because I'm too scared to know or not to know?

Buffy should have let me jump off that tower.

to be or not to be, that is the question

I've never really understood that quote until now, should I be the Dawn everyone knows and expects or the Dawn I'm afraid I am deep inside, the one who doesn't care sometimes when she should. The one who was willing to let her mom walk around as a zombie just so she could feel the comfort of her arms.

The one who always takes the easy way out.

Leave or Stay? Brave or chicken shit? Soul or no soul?



I eye the suitcase in my closet, wondering how far I could get before someone stopped me. What would be the easy answer? I'm not sure if it would be easier to stay or to go.

I lay back on my bed and sigh; I've always known where home was.