The Fallen Soldier
By: Princess Lollipop (PrincessLollipop_2386@alloymail.com)
Wes is gone. Or, at least that’s what they keep telling me. But I don’t
think he’s really gone. I think he’ll be with us forever, or at least
in spirit he will.
I was told that he didn’t have a chance, that the knife entered into his
neck too deeply. But you didn’t see him the way I did. I spent five years
in a demon dimension, a place where people being killed is an every day occurrence.
I know when someone has fear right before they die. I know when they don’t
understand why their life was taken while other, more horrible, lives are saved
each and everyday. The day we found him right by his apartment building, holding
his neck as if to stop the blood and prolong his life, he looked exactly like
all the ones that I’ve seen die in the last five years. He knew of the dying
to come and he feared it. I could see it in his eyes. In his wide, lifeless eyes,
I could see the pain, anguish, fear, regrets, remorse, and finally, death.
Death is the end of all. We live and we die. Easy as that. Well, it should be
at least. But, it’s not. You leave people behind when you end up leaving
this place, people you love, people who love you, people who shared your life.
Your life’s not really yours, it’s everybody’s.
I miss Wes and probably always will. I’ve been going over everything in
mind. How strong he was, how brave, how intelligent, how kind, how loving, how
courageous, how determined he was to save Connor, how trustworthy, how much I
loved him but never told. See, that’s the worst part of all. How much I
loved and cared about him but never let him know and how much I think that, maybe,
somehow, we could’ve saved him if we’d gotten there in time. That’s
why it’s so hard to let him go and finally realize that he’s gone
and not coming back. I always thought that he’d come back.
Yesterday was his funeral. I guess that signifies that the real end of his life.
Funerals are supposed to help those left behind to cope, to move on, to live.
What do you do when you’re the only one who can’t move on? If you
can’t cope or you’re the only one who wishes it was you, not him?
What do you do then? Do you cry and mourn your loss? Been there, done that.
The others are slowly learning to live again. They don’t cry anymore or
even think about him, but still I do. Angel’s started to find a way to get
back his son, Cordelia has finally come home but is still with Groo, Lorne tries
not to think about it and goes about his day as any other, Gunn is just like another
soldier who doesn’t stop to mourn but just goes out to fight, and me, well
they all worry about me. I know, I see it in their eyes every time they enter
my room to feed me something that I don’t want to eat and probably won’t
stay down anyway. I feel like I’m in that cave again, the one in Pylea,
the one that I was always so afraid to leave. My room is my cave and I stay in
it to mourn the loss of a fallen soldier who was taken too soon. I’m not
afraid, just sad. And I’m not even beginning to move on like the rest of
them. Is that normal?
Well, I must go now. They’re calling me to come out of my room. I don’t
want to, but I have a feeling that I have to, for my sake and theirs. I also know
that I have to because I know that Wesley wouldn’t want me to live like
this. So, here goes nothing....
THE END