Buffy was writing in a large diary because it made her feel more connected to Angel, like what she was writing was somehow getting to him even though he was dead and there was no way for him to read it. It was black leather with gold trim and had an Art Deco design on the cover. It was thick and many pages had already filled out. There were sketches on the sides of the book and she started writing in her own blood using her index finger because she’d become obsessed and dependent on the comfort it gave her. I guess she couldn’t find anything to write with and pricked her finger. The book had appeared out of nowhere but really came from Spike so he could read what she was journaling and somehow mess with her. Buffy’s mom came down the stairs so Cordelia grabbed the book and slammed it shut- and that’s the morning alarm to wake up.
I’m not ready for today.