This is a story I wrote for the BBF boards, and was later posted to the BtVS/AtS Lyric Wheel for their Season One Character Wheel. The challenge (devised by HonorH) was to find a character you disliked strongly and then write a story from that character's power of view.

Disclaimer: Snyder isn't mine, nor are any of the characters he mentions. All belong to Josh Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Thanks to Dawneen for the lyrics. The quote at the beginning comes from Season One's The Puppet Show.


"This place has quite a reputation. Suicide, missing persons, spontaneous cheerleader combustion... You can't put up with that. You've gotta keep an eye on the bad element. Like those three. Kids. I don't like them."

What he had said to the British librarian was true. He had never liked kids. Goddamned monsters, all of them, with their arrogant strutting and their sneering lips and their mocking eyes. Some of the more polite ones concealed their hatred behind poisonously courteous words; most of the others didn't even bother to hide their contempt.

He couldn't remember a time when it hadn't been that way. Preschool, kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, high school, college...it was one long unbroken record of pranks, tricks and cruel nicknames flung at him, the short one, the ugly one. It was months, even years, of I'll-unscrew-my-pen-and-you-distract-Snyder-while-I-pour-ink-on-his-homework. Of having his books, bookbags, lunchboxes and gym stuff stolen on a daily basis, then his parents, who believed that he was being deliberately careless, punishing him for having been robbed. Following his mother's instructions and giving Valentines to everyone in his class...and being mocked publicly by the teacher for not receiving a single one. Of having his head smashed into the water fountain whenever he tried to take a drink. Of having basketballs aimed deliberately at his head in gym class, one giving him a concussion. Having his locker smashed; being shoved into his locker. The taunts, the slaps, the punches, the trippings-up--and the snickering when he was hit or when he fell. The daily hooting cries of "Monkey-butt-face!" "Penis-breath!" and "REEE-tard!" The daily beatings on the playground that had convinced him that he had to avoid going outside at recess simply to save his life, and then being dragged from his sanctuary in the library by stupid, idiotic teachers who insisted that he simply had to come outside and play with the other children, it wasn't healthy to want to be by yourself, dear me NO.

He had begged for help. He'd begged his parents to let him take self-defense classes, and, when they refused, he tried tattling to his teachers, hoping and praying that they would listen. When that failed miserably, he tried bribing the ringleaders to stop. All that happened was that they shook him down for cash twice a day, in addition to the abuse that had already been happening.

Never mind, he was told. It'll be better in high school.

Liars. Goddamned liars.

He'd gotten beaten up just about as often, though no one would admit that was going on. The taunts and pranks continued, but now they were thinly coated with a veneer of superiority. If he tried to speak to a girl--and he tried, of course he tried--she would either snigger at him, glance at him as if she were the Queen of England and he was a lice-ridden, ragged bum who had just stepped on her foot, or regard him as if he were a new and alien species of bacteria.

He tried to be cool, figuring that if he made the effort, maybe they'd recognize that he was trying to fit in and leave him alone. Unfortunately, his attempts at coolness only evoked fresh hilarity.

That was when he started noticing the eyes. The cruel, contemptuous, cynical eyes. The eyes of the girls that said: "You're so ugly, the only woman you'll ever have is an inflatable doll." The eyes of the boys that said: "You're so stupid. You're such a loser. How can you even stand to exist?"

He began to perceive that when he entered restaurants, stores and movie theaters, other teenagers would stop speaking for a moment, stare at him and then break into ugly jagged shards of laughter. Younger children were no better. He had vivid memories of the day that a six-year-old boy had gazed at him unblinkingly for what had felt like hours and then sung out at concert pitch: "Mommy, is that man a troll?"

On the day he graduated from high school, he burned all of his schoolbooks. He wanted no reminders of Sunnydale High.

And now here he was. Back in Hell.

He forced himself to patrol the halls unceasingly. He knew that if he did not force himself to go out and face the eyes every day, he would never leave his office. And that was far too dangerous. He could not show weakness in the presence of his enemies. He dared not.

The students--and their damnable cruel, mocking eyes--were no different now than they had been when he was a student at Sunnydale.

Except for one. Buffy Summers.

Buffy. Just the thought of her made Snyder grit his teeth until they ached. It wasn't that she was blonde and pretty--blonde and pretty girls were a penny a dozen in California. And it wasn't that she was an underachiever. Half the student body was, as near as Snyder could figure out.

No, it was something very simple. Buffy Summers had everything that he'd ever been willing to sell his soul to have--good looks, confidence, potential popularity. And yet she threw it all away as if it were nothing--nothing!--and burned down gyms, beat up other students and hung out with the school losers.

It drove Snyder into a frenzy. Maybe I'm just blind--but how can anyone be so stupid as to give up everything that matters?

And yet, despite throwing away everything of value in life, Buffy still possessed the cruelest eyes he had ever seen. Contemptuous, yes, but also bold and commanding. She looked and acted as if she were in charge. As if she had the right to order others around. As if this were HER school and all the students were her subjects. The snotty little brat acted as if she was entitled to do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, and no one--certainly not Snyder--was going to stop her.

Worst of all was Buffy's cold indifference to him. She treated him like a flea or a tick. An extremely squashable, small, ugly bug.

It was unendurable.

He was trying to bring her around, he told himself hastily. He really was. He was trying to get her in the habit of helping others, of participating in extracurricular activities. He was trying to teach her that she had to consider other people. That the whole world did not revolve around her. She had to treat him--and others, of course--as if they mattered! She had to show respect!

She had yet to do so. But he had time. Lots of time.

Of course, he could always expel her. God knew, he'd fantasized about that. But not yet. No, not yet.

First, he had to humble her, shatter that arrogance of hers. Deflate that bloated ego. She had to know that she wasn't the little self-important goddess-delinquent that she thought she was. It was only a matter of time. She would break.

And he would know when her spirit broke, when she learned that all of the hurt and indifference she and her kind had dealt for years had boomeranged right back at her. He would see it in her eyes.

Her stunned, wounded, bewildered, futureless eyes.

***

3 Doors Down - When I'm Gone

There's another world inside of me
That you may never see
There's secrets in this life
That I can't hide
Somewhere in this darkness
There's a light that I can't find
Maybe it's too far away...
Maybe I'm just blind...

Maybe I'm just blind...

So hold me when I'm here
Love me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
And everything you need
I'll also be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good
So hold me when I'm here
Love me when I'm wrong
You can hold me when I'm scared
You won't always be there
So love me when I'm gone

Love me when I'm gone...

When your education x-ray
Can not see under my skin
I won't tell you a damn thing
That I could not tell my friends
Roaming through this darkness
I'm alive but I'm alone
Part of me is fighting this
But part of me is gone

So hold me when I'm here
Love me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
And everything you need
I'll also be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good
So hold me when I'm here
Love me when I'm wrong
You can hold me when I'm scared
You won't always be there
So love me when I'm gone

Maybe I'm just blind...

So hold me when I'm here
Love me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
And everything you need
I'll also be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good
So hold me when I'm here
Love me when I'm wrong
You can hold me when I'm scared
You won't always be there
So love me when I'm gone

Love me when I'm gone...

Love me when I'm gone
When I'm Gone
When I'm Gone
When I'm Gone