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When The Streets Were Dangerous
By Hoochamoo
Hoochamoo@aol.com
Disclaimer- Joss owns em.
Distrbution- Ask.
Feedback- please.
Summary- Willow met Doyle. Is it possible that he loved her more than he was attracted to
Cordilia?
Note- It gets sad. Sorry.
Someone once told me that the streets are dangerous.
They knew what they were talking about when they said it too. I’ve been on the streets for
a good part of my life and I know what kind of horrors they hold. I’m not talking about your
muggers and car thieves, I mean the kind that don’t come out in the day; the ones that can’t pass as human. They lurk everywhere in the darkness. Claws and fangs stand ready to snatch the next passerby before he can scream for help. I’ve seen them out there. I know who they are.
The sad thing is that I’m one of them. Though not the kind to spill the blood of an
innocent, I too prowl about in the shadows. My face may seem human enough but just beneath
the skin is my true face. A second visage that only those who know me well have ever seen hides under the surface. I hold it in most of the time. Humans can’t tell me from their own kind
and I prefer to keep it that way. The more oblivious they are, the easier they are to protect.
Still, there are times when I want to scream from the isolation I feel. No one out there understands what it feels like to be stuck in a body that doesn’t know what it is. They walk by without ever knowing that I have another part to my personality. Sometimes it is to much for me to bear.
I’ve been this way since birth. My mother raised me without ever telling me that I was part
demon. She thought it best to keep it a secret until I was older. I remember playing on the
playground with the other children and running free in the neighborhood without ever thinking
that there was something different about me. I was treated like any other child. I had friends and girlfriends and enemies. Even when I started dating, mother didn’t tell me. I went out with girls just like any normal guy. They dumped me just like they did anyone else. I thought I was the same.
When I was sixteen mother died. She had been diagnosed with cancer a few months before
and though they tried to save her, she passed on just the same. As I sat next to her in that hospital room, with the nurses and doctors running in and out, she leaned over and told me that I was different. Needless to say I didn’t understand. So I smiled and scooted closer so that I could hear her better. Before I could brace myself she told me everything I never wanted to know. She said that my father was a demon. That he had left before I was born so that he wouldn’t have to deal with raising a halfbreed son. I laughed at her. Nothing had sounded so ridiculous as what she was telling me. It was all so stupid sounding.
After the funeral I found out that it had all been true. The next morning I got out of bed
and went into the bathroom to shower. In the mirror I saw a hideous creature that couldn’t be me.
My skin was blue and spikes shot through the flesh every few centimeters. Touching them, I
found it all to be real. Everything mother had told me was true and I was going to have to deal with it. Praying that I could keep my demon face inside, I went about my life. I finished school with honors. Then went on to college so that I could become a teacher. If there was one thing I loved it was children. The way that they trusted you so completely to take care of them. The way their eyes would light up when they got something that they wanted. The innocence that surounded them was a thing I admired and wished I still had. So I earned my teaching degree and became a third grade teacher.
About the time I got my first class I met a girl. She was the nicest person I had ever met.
Her attitude toward life was so unblemished that I knew I had fallen in love. Things went well for a long time. We were married a few years later. That, however, did not last long. Soon she started fight with me over everything. Eventually we decided that it would be best for the both of us if she left. So she did.
Then things went bad. I quit teaching. I cut off any friends that I had ever had. Instead I
holed up in a little apartment in the dark. My life took a U turn and went downhill. Things were
looking pretty bad. I borrowed money to make ends meet and rarely ever paid it back. I gained more enemies than I thought possible. Most nights I spent my time hiding till dawn, hoping that whoever was looking for me this time wouldn’t find me. It was a sad existence. Most of the time I wanted to die. Life meant nothing to me. After all, who was there to turn to?
One night though, the fates gave me a chance to redeem myself. They sent a demon of my
kind to see me. He said that his family was in danger. That some kind of scourge was coming to wipe them out and that I needed to help them. In my condition though, I didn’t see it for what it was and told him no. I said that I was just one person and that I could never help him. Sleep didn’t come that night. I tossed and turned till nearly morning. Finally I got up and went to the kitchen to get a drink. As I was opening the door my head felt like it was spliting down the middle. The pain caused me to throw myself backwards into the table. My mind was filled with pictures of demons like myself. They were dead. All of them. Soon the pain was gone and I knew I had to see. I had to find out if there was anything I could do to help now.
Following the streets the vision had told me I found the apartment building and went
inside. What I saw I will never forget. Death. All were dead. Everyone from the small children to the grown men. In the center of the room was a pair of shoes. They must have belonged to a little girl. Looking around I saw the owner. Part of her face was gone. The single eye they had left her stared at me accusingly. Unable to take it I bolted. And went back to hiding.
