July 2000

Writer: Fernando

Angel Summers paid the driver of the taxi and got out. The plane from Boston to Sunnydale had been long and tiresome.

Angel walked up the path that led to his new home with Xander and Anya Harris. Their house was white with a picket fence, and had a bed of roses-very reminiscent of the ideal home in the 1960’s, but it was 2022.

Angel Summers had blond hair, green eyes, and was heavy set.

His hair was long, in a mushroom cut, it had been all the rage in the 90’s and was back after years of remission; it went down about mid-ear. He let it loose. He hated hairspray, gel, and moose. He much preferred the natural flow of things.

In the pocket of his jacket was his mother’s obituary. He had kept it. He didn’t know why… he just did. Most people hated to be reminded of a loved ones death. Angel some how…welcomed it for some unknown reason… like it was meant to be this way. But it still did not stop him from hurting.

Buffy Summers had been a wonderful person, and a wonderful mother. He could hardly believe she was dead-it was only a few weeks ago that they were talking about coming here to visit uncle Giles. She was buried a week ago. Everyone showed-friends, family. All the people she’d ever helped in her life. It had amazed him.

Angel was sixteen and alone. He had no family.

His father, Riley Finn, died two months before he was born. His grandparents died a few years ago. Grandma Joyce’s death hit his mother harder. Not that she didn’t love her father, but… she seemed to be there for her, and him, more.

The only thing he had left was a strange and eccentric extended family: Xander, Anya, Willow, and Oz. Of course he still had uncle Giles, and Cordelia, who lived in LA.

His mother asked Xander and Anya to look after him in her will. And it was done. He stood at the steps to his new "family".

He looked around.

Sunnydale-a typical little town where everyone knew everyone.

A shiver ran down his spine-he had an eerie feeling about this place. Something inside him told him nothing was as it seemed here at all, and that nothing would ever be the same again.

Angel walked back up the steps and rang the doorbell, and waited to be let inside.

There is only one…the chosen one. The chosen one fights for the innocent and saves the world from damnation. The chosen one stands alone against the monsters, vampires, and demons of the night…the chosen one is The Slayer.

Pilot Episode:
"A Rocky Start"

Brooke Harris walked out of her room and descended down the stairs to the kitchen. She was sixteen and very popular, at least she was in her head. In reality, she was not very popular, but not down so far the social chain to be labeled a "loser". She had hazel eyes and hair. She was fit and admired by many boys, so her lack of popularity didn’t bother her as much.

She wore blue jeans that fit her just right, with a white blouse tucked in. Over her white blouse she wore a red see-through shirt that was knotted at the waist. She wore black shoes and her hazel hair was up in the latest coiffure.

She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge door and pulled out the orange juice, and served herself. That was her breakfast: ice cold OJ, the breakfast of champions-the liquid diet!

After she put the OJ back in the fridge and drank her breakfast, she walked to the closet and got out her little black leather jacket and her backpack. As she did this Angel came down stairs.

Angel was cute and had piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through you. Her father said that he got that from his mother. He wore blue jeans, black shoes, a white shirt and a leather jacket. Brooke was head over heels for this guy.

Her family welcomed him with open arms. It was tragic what happened to his mother-an animal attack and loss of blood.

"Morning," she said to Angel who seemed slightly out of it.

"Morning," he said and sighed.

"Are you OK Angel? Are you sure you’re up for this? I’m sure mom and dad will call in sick for you."

"Nah. I just haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve been getting these nightmares. They’re not making any sense at all. But, um… I’ll be fine. I’ve got to start school sometime and it might as well be today, right? If I stayed then I’d turn out to be one of those people stuck at home watching daytime soaps like Passions-which by the way I can’t see how stayed on for as long as it has! Besides…I’m sure I can use that excuse later."

"Smart guy."

"I like to think so," Angel responded and laughed. That was the first time she’d seen him laugh or even crack a smile since he’d gotten here a week ago.

"Can we go now?" Brooke smiled as he said this to her.

"Yeah, we just have to pick up Ken across the street." She replied still with her big smile at him.

He gave her a weird look and said, "Cool," then sighed as he put on his jacket.

"What?" Brooke asked.

"Nothing. Why?" He said quickly.

"I don’t know you just seem…troubled."

"Nope. I’m fine. Let’s get Ken. What time does your dad go to work?"

"Today at nine. The library opens late today. He has to refile the books for school."

"Must suck having your dad at school with you, huh? Especially if he’s the librarian."

"Sometimes," she said, "but mostly it’s like having an ATM with you at school. Instant money." She grinned.

They laughed.

"So does uncle Giles still work there?" he asked.

"No. His days of being a librarian for Sunnydale High ended on dad’s Graduation Day when the school blew up."

"Well we better get going," he said finally. They were still at their door.

As they walked out the door he asked, " Hey, did they ever find out who blew it up?"

Ken was waiting for them when they got out of the house. He stood there 5’4". He had spiky red hair. He wore blue baggy jeans, brown shoes, and a green T-shirt that belong to his father. It read, "Dingoes Ate My Baby."

Ken was very much like his mother, Willow. He was a complete computer nerd, along with everything-else-nerd. He got straight A’s every year. But despite his academic achievements, he wasn’t hounded, or made fun of for it. Rather he was accepted for it, and in that he was like his father, Oz.

"Hey guys," he said.

"Hey," Brooke and Angel said in unison.

"Ready for your first day of school Angel?" Ken asked with a hint of mockery in his voice.

"As ready as I’ll every be." He replied as they walked dreadfully went onward.

Angel hated being new.

Giles had just received the most distressing phone call. Since Buffy’s death, there has been no Slayer. Not one girl has been chosen to take up her duties. Something very odd was going on and he had to find out. But first he must phone Xander-he must be told, after all, Xander is a Watcher.

"Well it’s safe to say you’re a great edition to Sunnydale High, Mr. Summers."

"Thank you Mr. Thurman." Angel responded.

"Call me Owen. And you’re welcome. I’m sorry to hear about your mother. She was something special. I meant to fly out but I couldn’t get away."

"Thank you. It’s OK."

"I went out on a date with her once y’know."

"Really?" Angel said surprised.

"Oh yes. We went to the Bronze, the old one, and to a funeral home. Best date of my life. I’m just sorry we couldn’t have had more."

Owen stood there. He was a tall man. Thin. He had blond hair and a mustache. He wore a gray suit that made him look older than he really was. Angel could have sworn it was made of tweed.

"Well," he finally said, "I hope you have a good year. Come to me if you have any problems, and again my condolences. You’re locker assignment is with my secretary, here is your schedule, and you can pick up your books in the library with Mr. Harris."

"Thank you. Owen." Angel said.

As he was getting up, putting his class schedule in his backpack, he saw a book by Emily Dickinson. He got it out and looked at the inside. It said, "Buffy Summers. Remember Owen." She must have written it to herself.

He looked at Owen. Then he said, "Mr. Thurman- uh… Owen. This was my mother’s. I think she would have liked you to have it." "It’s Emily Dickinson. I-I love Emily," Owen said shocked. "I guess she thought about you after your date and learned something. You gave a lot more then you thought. See you around," Angel said and walked out of the office with Owen reading the book by Emily Dickinson that was saved by Buffy Summers. His two favorite women. Angel got his locker assignment from the secretary and walked out stuffing the piece of paper into his pack, when a girl bumped into him-knocking his stuff to the ground. The girl had dark blond hair and was very pretty.

"God I’m such a klutz," she said.

"No. I shoulda’ been watchin’ where I was goin’," he replied.

She helped him gather his things.

"I don’t know you do I?" she asked.

"No. I’m new. My name is Angel Summers. Nice to meet you," he said giving her his infamous half-smile that drove any girl he liked crazy. She smiled back.

"I’m Sara Hope. Nice meeting you too, Angel. Maybe I’ll see you around," she said and began walking away.

"See ya."

Angel got up and watched her leave. He might actually like it here.

"The black plague caused much destruction during the Middle Ages. It caused population to decrease in Europe and to the Mongols as what? Anyone? As an early form of germ warfare. If you turn to page 64 you can find a chart that…" the teacher droned.

Angel looked around until a boy showed him the map. Then the bell rang for class to end.

"Thanks," Angel said.

"Oh, no problem. We get new kids a lot here. I guess it’s because there’s an abundant activity of kidnappings."

Angel looked at him.

The guy continued, "So you’re from…"

"Boston."

"Hey cool. I love Boston. It’s so…"

"Cool?" Angel said as a joke.

"Yeah. Really cool." Brock answered truthfully. Angel just shook his head in disbelief.

"I’m Brock West, by the way."

"I’m Angel Summers it’s…nice meeting you. Brock."

"Well how do you like Sunnydale so far?"

"It’s OK, I mean it’s not Boston but it’s cool, a little too Mayberry for me though."

"OK, rule of thumb-to get by here this all you gotta do: ‘know your losers’. Once you spot them all by sight, they’re easier to avoid."

"And where did you acquire this knowledge oh wise one?"

"From my dad, Percy West. He learned it from the old reign of terror here at Sunnydale High, Cordelia Chase."

"Ah…"

They walked to the soda machine where a boy stood there deciding on what to get.

"Matt, it’s good to know you’ve seen the softer side of a thrift store. MOVE!"

Matt looked and scurried away. He looked back at Angel as he left.

*What was with this guy? * Angel thought.

"Brock, can you tell me where the library is so I can get some books?"

"Yeah. It’s over there," and he pointed to the corner.

"Can I ask you something?" Angel asked.

"Shoot."

"Why don’t you like that guy…Matt?"

"He’s a total freak! A scud. His mother, Amy Madison, is totally weird. My dad says she’s a witch or something."

"So you can tell who’s a loser by who their parents are?"

"Yep."

"Good to know." Angel walked to the doors of the library when Brock called out, "Hey if you’re not doing anything tonight you should come to the Bronze!"

"OK!" Angel yelled back and walked into the library.

*What a jerk, * he thought.

"Xander," he called.

"Xander, I need you!" He repeated.
At the counter he saw a newspaper. It read, "Five Found Dead In Alley Behind Local Club."

"What?" Xander said behind making Angel jump.

Angel turned around and said, "Books. I need them. "Right. So how’s your first day?"

"OK. The girls are cute, people are nice, and some are just jerks."

"So…regular stuff."

"Yeah." Angel grinned.

"So have you met Brock?"

"Oh yeah. He’s such an asshole. Sorry…but he is."

"S’ok. Did he make fun of you?"

"Actually… he wants to make me part of his clique."

"So what’s with the assholey part."

"Get this…Matt Madison cast away because Brock’s dad thinks Matt’s mom is a witch."

"Oh. Here you go. Books. Have a nice lunch. Ooh. Wait," Xander pulled out a ten-dollar bill and gave it to Angel.

"Oh no. I can’t take the money."

"Come on. We’re family now. It’s my job to give you money, and buy you things. Take the money."

Finally Angel said, "Fine. But only because you begged me to." He smiled at Xander and walked out the door. Then Xander’s phone rang.

Angel walked out the quad of Sunnydale High. Alone on the bench sat Matt eating a sandwich. Angel walked over and sat down next to him.

"Matt. Right?"
"Did you want me to move?" He said as he began gathering his things.

"Oh. No. It doesn’t involve you moving but it does have you hanging with me a bit."

"But aren’t you hanging out with Brock?"

"I can’t do both?"

"Not naturally. See it defies all laws of nature."

Angel laughed.

"Your funny, you know that. Well anyway, Brock has been nice…to me. But see I have this dire desire not to flunk any of my classes and I heard you were the one to talk to."

"I can totally help you!"

"Great."

That’s when a booming voice came from behind yelling, "Excuse me? I’d hate to interrupt your downward spiral but I came to inform you that your meeting with gym teacher was cancel due the fact he died last night-loss of blood."

"Thanks Brock." Angel said.

"Can I talk to you for a minute Angel?" Brock asked.

"Sure."

Brock pulled Angel aside and said, "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

"Being nice. You should try it. It does wonders." Angel said sarcastically.

"Oh I’m nice," Brock began, "what you’re doing is suicide! Social suicide!"

"Look Brock. You should think twice before labeling someone a ‘loser’ because of who his or her parents are. And he’s helping me with school, and a friend."

"You are so totally finished!" Brock said with seething anger.

"Yeah well, Matt’s being a whole lot cooler right now than you are. And by the way, if you’re going to be judging people by who their parents are then check this out. Ask your dad who my mother is: Buffy Summers." Angel finished angrily.

Brock’s eyes went wide. He looked almost afraid when Angel said his mother’s name. Brock turned and walked away. No wise crack. No comeback. No answer. Just silence.

"Goodbye Giles. Call me if they find anything."

Xander hung up the phone and stood there in shock. He couldn’t believe it. No Slayers. The world is going to end!

Buffy had been the Chosen One. The only one in her generation who could save the world. She had been the longest living Slayer in the entire world-next to Faith.

Buffy went through a lot more than anyone could, even should, go through and came out wonderfully well adjusted. No one can comprehend what a Slayer goes through. Xander never pretended to understand. It was something Buffy did all on her own, even if they thought that they had something to do with it.

Sunnydale sat on top of a hellmouth. All kinds of evil are attracted to it, so demons, and vampires, and other things that go bump in the night that we don’t believe in, walk out and terrorize Sunnydale at night.

Oz, Cordelia, Anya, Willow, and Xander helped her stop these things, as well as stopping the world from ending more times than he cared to think about, as her Slayerettes. Today they still hunt while the children sleep. Willow became a powerful Wicca. Oz is able to harness his lycanthropy at times.

Ever since Anya became human she’s had no powers. And Cordelia is in L.A., helping Angel, Buffy’s first love-a vampire with a soul, as his connection to the Powers That Be.

But their help is limited. They are only, after all, human. The world needs a Slayer. The only Slayer out there is Faith…and well…she’s a bit psychotic.

Xander sat in his office and prayed for a miracle-for a Slayer.

"Popularity by parentage," Angel pondered, "well there goes my social life."

Angel had heard his mother talking about high school. She wasn’t a popular person. She always got into fights. She was feared. They labeled her a "freak". What chance did he have of becoming Mr. Popularity?

He got up from his bed and got out a wooden box. In the box was his mother’s jewelry. He had every ring, earring, bracelet, and necklace that his mother had ever owned. He wore his father’s wedding ring all the time.

Many of her necklaces had crosses on them. In fact, all over their house in Boston crosses were riddled galore. Either they were very religious or crosses held some special meaning in their family. And as he looked at his father’s ring he noticed that there was a tiny silver cross on there as well.

He closed the box and put it in his drawer. He grabbed some of the empty cardboard boxes to throw them away when he noticed a small black velvet box, like something to hold a necklace or something.

He set the boxes down and opened the little one. In it was a silver cross and a weird looking ring.

"Whatcha lookin’ at?" Came a loud voice from behind that startled Angel.

"Huh?" Angel turned to the doorway; it was Willow.

"Where’d you come from," said Angel, "you scared me half to death."

"Xander let me in. I came to say Hi."

"Come on in."

"Thanks. So what are you lookin’ at?"

"Jewelry."

"Oh. Who’s?"

"Mom’s. I found these two separated from the others"

"Let me see."

He handed her the velvet box. She opened it and gasped.

"What?"

She took a deep breath, then said, "Your mother had a special part in her heart for these two."

"Why?"

"Did your mother ever tell you about Angel?"

"Who?"

"Ah. You’ve been deprived. When your mom first came to Sunnydale she met Angel. He was tall, dark, and handsome. She fell head over heels. He gave her the cross when they became friends of course, later they became a couple and fell in love. That’s when he gave her the ring. On her Birthday. He had the matching one. It’s a promise ring from Ireland called a claddagh ring. The heart stands for love, the hands for friendship, and the crown stands for loyalty. They were in so much love. Of course, that was way before your father came into the picture."

"Why’d it end?"

"Huh?"

"My mom and Angel." He said.

"It’s hard to explain. It’s very complicated," she tried to explained, "Angel was older than she was."

* Much older than she was. Try like two hundred years and change, * she thought.

"See Angel knew she needed to live her life. She had a promising future. And she needed things he couldn’t give her. She needed to find life with or without him. It was hard on both of them."

"That doesn’t make sense."

"I told you it was complicated."

"Well at least I know where these things came from. Thanks," he looked up at her.

"No problem sweetie. I’ll see you later."

She left. Angel had never heard of this old flame. He was surprised there was anyone other than his father that his mother had loved.

He looked at the crucifix. It was nice. He took out the wooden box again and withdrew his silver chain and put the crucifix on it, along with his mother’s wedding ring and promising ring. The crucifix between it, and then put it around his neck.

*Well that went badly, * Willow thought.

She had never expected Buffy not to tell her son about Angel. The explanation she gave was sloppy. She wondered if it even made sense. And Angel’s comment was directed to her explanation, and not the reason why Buffy and her love broke up.

She walked into her house and saw Ken on the couch watching TV.

"Kenny I thought I told you to put your father’s chains in the basement. You know tonight’s the night before the full moon," she scolded.

"OK! God! Why am I the only kid in town who has to make sure his father’s shackles are ready because he turns into a werewolf three nights a month," he whined.

"Just lucky I guess. Beside be thankful you didn’t inherit the gene. At least you don’t have to become a werewolf."

"I’m thankful everytime I do this."

"Are you going to the Bronze with the others?"

"Maybe. I have to check."

"Just remember, if you do go out, don’t let them into the house. We can’t say the howling is from the dog because you’re allergic."

"I know mother."

"Don’t take that tone of voice with me young man," she said mockingly.

"Y’know, now that I think about it. Not only am I the only kid in school whose father is a werewolf, but also whose parents are the only ones who own a pair of shackles. Do you have any idea how terrifying that thought is to a teenager?" Ken shivered showing his disgust.

"Oh honey relax. Me and your father haven’t used those shackles in years!"

She left.

Ken stood there in bewilderment. How could one not use those shackles for years when they have their pesky little problem? Then it hit him like a ton of bricks, and he let out a loud, "EEUW!"

The Bronze had undergone many changes over the years from the one story club to the now four-story club. The first two floors were constantly used. The top two floors were only used on holidays and were up for rent for a special even-such as a high school prom.

Some things never changed. Every teen that wanted to have fun was there. Ken, Brooke, and Angel sat at a table and watched the band play.

"These guys are…" Angel started.

"Bad." Ken finished.

"Yeah," Angel said.

"Well you gotta give them an ‘A’ for effort." Brooke replied.

When the band finished playing, much to the enjoyment of the audience, the DJ took over and Brooke got up and walked on to the dance floor. As soon as she did this a swarm of guys came to her.

"See she totally does that on purpose." Ken said.

"And why wouldn’t she? She’s a total babe. Not my type of course. If you got it, you got. Granted she shouldn’t flaunt it as much as she does." Angel said watching Brooke dance with a group of six guys.

"Yeah well…" Ken let it dangle.

"I’m going out on a limb here and say you have a thing for her, don’t you?"

"I don’t," Angel gave him a look, "much."

"Whatever. Look if you like her tell her."

"Well girls and me don’t mix. Everytime I talk to a girl I end up loosing all basic speech, and motor functions. Plus…sweaty palms. No talking for me thank you."

"My philosophy is-do you want to hear it?"

"Hey! Why not?" Ken exclaimed.

" ‘Live for today.’ Why worry about what some girl says today. Live each day as if it were you last. Because tomorrow you may be dead."

"Oh…that’s…nice…and a little gross, but nice."

Angel chuckled to himself and said, "Look take it slow if you want. I’m not saying a word or any ‘sitches’."
They both laughed. No one had used the word ‘sitches’ in forever. That was something their parents use to say. Whoever said that today would be cast down from all public functions.

"I’m gonna get something to drink. Want something?" Angel asked.

"No. I’m fine. Thanks."

As Angel was leaving Brooke sat down and asked, "Where’s he going?"

"To get something to drink."

Brooke’s torso fell onto the table, arms extending to the side of it, covering the entire table and she let out, "God he is so cute! I like him Ken. A lot! I just wish he’d notice me."

Ken lowered he head and said, "He’s stupid for not."

Angel paid for his coke and turned around. There she was. Standing there with her black pants and a pink see through shirt, with a black spaghetti strap shirt underneath. She wore high-healed boots and a little leather jacket that only covered the torso. Her hair was up with little sparkly things. Her lips were covered in pink; it complemented her green eyes. She looked straight at him. It was Sara from earlier today. She looked beautiful.

Angel was still transfixed on her when he said, "Hey."

"Hey Angel," she looked on the floor.

"You look…great." He said amazed.

"Thanks," she said and smiled at him.

"Are you here with someone?" he asked and took a sip from his glass.

"No. I’m alone. You?"

"With some friends."

"Oh," she said looking a bit disappointed.

Cautiously Angel asked, "Would you like to dance?"

She lit up and excitingly agreed.

Angel led her to the table where Ken and Brooke sat. He set his glass on the table.

"Guys you know Sara, right."

"Yeah, hey Sara," Ken said.

"Hey." That was all Brooke could say. She was severely depressed.

"Hey Brooke. Ken." Sarah replied.

Then a second later Angel took Sara onto the dance floor.

"God! Look at her! She’s totally, like, throwing herself at him. How like pathetic is that!" Brooke said.

"Uh-huh," Ken mock agreed with Brooke. The situation was so ironic. He wanted Brooke. She wanted Angel. And Angel wanted Sara. He chuckled to himself.

*Wait, * he thought, * isn’t Sara with Brock? *

"Hey isn’t she with Brock?" Brooke asked.

"Crap," was all Ken said. He shot up to tell Angel.

It was too late.

"What do you think you’re doing," someone yelled.

Angel turned around; it was Brock.

"Dancing. How are you Brock?"

"Fine, but you’re not going to be anything but. That’s my girl!"

"What? Sara?" Angel looked at her, she was looking down on the floor and she didn’t say a word.

He turned and looked at Brock. He was tall and built like one of those guys who came out on TV to be the next Mr. Bodybuilder America. Angel was in a lot of trouble.

"Sorry. I-I didn’t know"

Brock grabbed him and yelled in his face, "Like hell you didn’t! Everyone knows she’s mine, you stupid piece of shit!" Angel could see a vein popping out of his neck.

"Well I didn’t. No one even bothered to tell me. Not even your precious girlfriend. What’s that tell you?"
Everyone cringed when Angel had said that. He was in for it now.

"That’s it! I’ve had enough of you!"

Brock was outraged. Full of anger. He made a huge fist and with full force punched Angel in the face. Angel’s head just turned downwards to the floor. He didn’t go down or buckle underneath the blow. He stood there. Then he looked Brock straight in the eye. Angel’s eyes were filled with seething anger. The blow didn’t even phase him. He was as much surprised (even more) as Brock or anyone else in the room.

"Look like I said, I didn’t know." Angel turned around and started walking away.

"Don’t walk away from me!" Brock shouted and hollered. Angel just shot him a look that shut him up. It was probably something he inherited from his mother.

Sara ran up to him and said, "Angel wait…let me explain!" Angel didn’t let her. He said, "You should be with your boyfriend." With that said, he went to sit with his friends and the music resumed.

"I’m heading home you guys. You comin’?"

"Yeah," they said in unison.

Angel walked through the school gymnasium. Everyone was just standing around-not moving. He walked past Anya, who didn’t flinch. Xander wasn’t even looking at him. Willow was standing with a cauldron with brew bubbling. Oz stood there ready to pounce-he was covered in fur, almost wolf-like. Uncle Giles was sitting in a chair reading a book while someone was in the background with a knife-Angel didn’t do anything. Ken was staring at Brooke googlyeyed as she to Angel. Then there was a table. There was nothing on it. No tablecloth, plates, or cups. It was just plain. In the middle of the table he now saw was an old musty book. It was called, "Vampyr." He was about to open it when a voice called him.

"Angel," it said softly. He turned around and his mother was standing there with her arms open. He started walking to her and said, "Mom?"

She nodded her head.

"But you’re…"

"Dead?" she finished.

"Yeah."

"No. As you can clearly see."

"Why’d you do this to me? Why’d you give me this? I don’t think I can handle it."

"Oh baby," she started and he was now in her arms, which she wrapped around him like a snake wraps around its prey and continued, "to protect you from me." Then she changed into a horrible creature that bore her fangs into his neck.

Angel woke up with a thud. He had fallen out of bed.

It was a dream. It was all a dream. A nightmare…again. Angel was breathing hard and his heart was racing. He didn’t know why, but even though he knew it was just a dream, he couldn’t shake the feeling his mother was going to come out and bite him again. He checked his neck. Angel’s head hurt from thinking about his life, his mother, school. So he went back to bed. He needed to sleep; he had an algebra test that he forgot to study for tomorrow.

"School was horrible. Everyone just stared at me like I was some kind of ‘freak’. Things here are different. Really different. Duh, I know, but I…I don’t know. My life has been torn and shaken. My mom and dad are dead. My grandparents died when I was younger and I live with my mom’s friends from high school. They’re nice and all but…it’s not the same as my own family.

"Ever since my mother died I’ve been having nightmares. And I know that is normal, but my dreams aren’t the ‘oh-it’s-all-my-fault-if-only-I’d-have-been-there-things-would-be-different’ type dreams. These are majorly giving me the wiggins. My dreams are more confusing (I don’t even think I’m using the right word here.).

"Like before my dreams didn’t have any voices. Strange I know but they were flashes or…scenes of different events-all these monsters-like on TV when they show a bunch of sports clips together.

"Other times my dreams are of mom. They’re like memories…but not mine. (Confused yet?) She’s young…maybe my age or a little older, also Willow and the others are there, but my mom is like fighting these…things (for lack of a better word), and the guys (Willow, Oz, Xander, Giles, Anya, and Cordelia) are helping her.

"But last night’s was more frightening to the core…more than just weird and confusing. I’m in the school, right-it’s weird I can remember all this crap in detail when it’s been forever since I’ve actually dreamt it. Well anyway I’m in the gymnasium and everyone there is just standing around. They’re not doing a damn thing. Xander is looking at the sky; Anya is like off in lalaland. Uncle Giles is reading a book while he’s about to get murdered and Brooke and Ken look like a bunch of monkeys in love-it’s very disquieting. Oz is there too only…he kinda looks like a wolf. It’s very weird.

"The next thing I know I’m at a freakin’ table with a book that say vampire on it only spelled wrong. It’s weird, I can even remember the book smelled old and dirty. How weird is that? Well I’m about to open this book when someone calls out my name. I turn around, and it’s my mother! We have this really weird conversation about how she’s given me something and how I don’t think I can handle it (I have no idea what we’re talking about.). And she’s all, ‘ honey I did it to,’ I’m in her arms now, and she finished, ‘ to save you from me!’ And then bites MY fucking neck!

"That’s when I woke up. Pretty freaky, huh? Wigged yet?

"I have a total of three friends at school. I’m not Mr. Popularity. I guess keeping this journal thing, which I was never really good at by the way, will help me figure things out. There’s stuff I can’t talk to anyone about… not even Ken or Brooke, or even Xander. Something tells me whatever I find out, about me, or my mother, will change my life forever-whether I like it or not. If it’s a good thing or a bad thing, only time will tell.

"-Angel"

He set the book aside. He never thought of himself the type to write journals. He got into bed closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.

The dark figured looked at Angel from outside his window as he slept. The figured devilishly and evilly grinned at the sight of a teenage boy, crying himself to sleep over his mother's murder. The figure loved it; the sight of a Slayer's son crying in emotional anguish was bliss…at least next to taking a life. She couldn't wait to destroy humanity. She would succeed where others have failed, she'd open the hellmouth, and no one would stop her. Not even the insipid Watchers. There was no Slayer now, and even if the Slayer were brought into light, as if the Watchers would find the chosen one, the Slayer would not be a challenge. No one can stop her. One by one she'd kill any family or friends the former Slayer ever had…even though they weren't much, they proved to be a formidable team, and if the Slayer were to come they'd run to "it" and offer their services. She chuckled. This was going to be fun.

She thought, * Sunnydale, home sweet home. * She turned toward the street, her cloak flapping in the air, and snapped her fingers. Out of the shadows, two chaos demons, and four vampires came by her side, they were under her command. This was going to be an interesting year.

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