Dear You: Letter One BANG!

B,

So I did it. Made the big switch.

The Mayor left me this new toy and I was just dying to try it out on you. Yeah, it's a bitch, isn't it?

It's going to be fun being you. I got everything now. The friends, the mom, the guy. Everyone that worships you. You really got it good, you know that? Never had the life I had.

But I broke free. And I guess that's what matters.

So here's the information. I'm wanted. I'm a killer, I'm a bloodthirsty animal. And Oh, I'm Buffy Summers. That's right, Little Miss Perfect Slayer. Everything to everyone. But now, it's my life. Mom never said "I love you." You say it all the time, like it's a disease or something. But I became free. Gave couple belts to her face, after a few Rum and Cokes, of course, and Mom was history. You got everything. I got a trailer in Boston, a mom who was never awake and a calling to be the Slayer.

At least something turns out good. You would have been a great partner. We could have been something...amazing. I could feel it, the rush, the chemistry. Don't tell me that when you would come home from a night of slaying, you didn't feel it. That "God I can do anything" surge of energy? Maybe that's why I became psychotic.

Or I could blame it on I never got any love, I'm so lonely, insert drawn out cliche here. Till it all looks like a bad episode of Maury Povich.

Death waits for me; it will wait for you. We're Slayer's. Death is what we do. Carousel of a world was spinning, nobody ever stopped the ride for me. Got my ticket now. Thanks.

They're going to come after you. You'll be alone in a cell in the middle of God knows where, like I would be, if you hadn't put me into that coma. I never got the chance to properly thank you; you just keep digging the knife deeper.

Give us a kiss, B.

The Mayor told me I could go out with a BANG.

So...

BANG.

Enjoy the life, B. It only goes down from here.

Faith