I do not own The Vampire Diaries.

It happened this morning. I was on my way to school, grateful that the end of the week had finally gotten here. Coming around a curve, an SUV going the other way veered into my lane. I swerved at the last second and managed to avoid sliding into the ditch. I pulled to the side of the road long enough to take a deep breath and push the near-disaster to the back of my mind before continuing to school.

Now, safe in my room while Aunt Jenna and Jeremy sleep soundly, I can't put off thinking about it. If I'd reacted a half a second later, I probably wouldn't be lying in my bed staring at the ceiling right now. Half a second. That's the difference between me going to school Monday morning and my friends and family attending my funeral Monday morning. My friends and family have been to enough funerals. My parents. Bonnie's Grams. Vicki. Tyler's dad. That Sarah girl.

I almost died this morning. I almost died, and it didn't have anything to do with vampires or witches or werewolves. It was just an average, everyday near-death experience. And I can't help but marvel at how something as simple as driving to school could end my life. Could cause the people I love such pain.

I picture my funeral. The coffin. My body lying there peacefully, in a sleep I'll never wake up from. Aunt Jenna standing with Jeremy on one side and Alaric on the other. The rest of the front row. Caroline. Bonnie. Matt. Tyler. Stefan. Damon. Too many tears. Too much heartache.

It dawns on me that I feel guilty. For dying. But that's not it. It's because it could have been prevented. By something that, until now, I was bent on not even considering.

Wouldn't it be selfish of me not to accept something that could potentially save the people I love a lot of pain? Is the fact that it's a curse, that it's immoral, enough of a reason not to?

Look at what it's done to Caroline. To Stefan. To Damon.

Then again, none of them chose it.

Well, Damon did at first, but the second he thought Katherine was dead, he decided he didn't want it anymore. He only ever wanted it so that he could be with the one he loved forever.

So does that make it worth it? The fact that your loved ones will be spared the heartache your death would bring? And is it worth watching people I love grow old and die?

I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything. Not anymore. A part of me is ready to embrace it. A part of me wants that. It's a darkness in my heart whispering to me, an invitation to a bottomless pit, and I know I probably shouldn't listen.

But Stefan is in that pit.

And Damon.

And Caroline.

And an eternity of possibilities.