FIC: Life on My Block (4/?)

["Red Demon" <eternal_light2000@xxxxxxxxx>]

Thank you to all who have given me positive feedback:)

Title: Life on My Block (4/?)
Author: Red Demon
Email: eternal_light2000@xxxxxxxxx
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. I own cats ;-)
Pairing: Buffy/Willow
Rating: PG-13 (dark thoughts)
Distribution: Take it but keep my name attached and send me an email.
Feedback: Please!!!!!!!!
Summary: Buffy is on death row for Kendra's murder.
Spoilers: Becoming.

Note: I'm not a lawyer. I've never been in jail. I've had one
speeding ticket. I don't know much about the legal procedures but
through all my research I think this is pretty true to life. Let me
know if I'm wrong.

The lyrics are by Alice in Chains.

PART FOUR

She was on the last shift to take showers so most of the other
inmates had already had theirs. The water beat down on her shoulders
and she shivered slightly. Ever since Willow's visit she couldn't
seem to get warm. Willow's firm statement that Giles would find a
way to prove her innocence should have been reassuring to her but it
wasn't.

What if her parole was denied? She would have a week to try and make
peace with the man above. Buffy knew she didn't really have anything
to make peace about. Kendra was murdered by a crazed vampire but she
couldn't tell the anyone that. They would laugh at her and call her
desperate or insane.

Buffy watched as the last of the water ran down the drain then
grabbed a towel. The buzz on the block had picked up greatly in the
past couple of days. Some of the inmates would look at her and then
whisper to those standing near them. Just like Cordy and her friends
did in high school. Those that she did allow to be close to her told
her that they were praying for her. She wanted to tell them that
she'd need more than their prayers.

The guards led into her cell. Once the hand-cuff was taken off she
sat on the cot and picked up the tape Oz had made for her. She'd
asked him to take a glance at a song she'd written five years back.
She'd never expected him to make a tape of it. Sighing she lay down
on the cot her arm pillowing her head. Oz's soft strum of the guitar
filled her ears blocking out the thoughts of the parole hearing
tomorrow.

"We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight, and yet I fight
This battle all alone
No one to cry to
No place to call home

My gift of self is raped
My privacy is raked
And yet I find, yet I find
Repeating in my head
If I can't be my own
I'd feel better dead."

END PART FOUR

~Pt. 5 is written it should be up sometime tomorrow~

RED DEMON