I should really not be doing this. I'm so busy with life but Kai Parker has taken over my life and got me back into watching TVD again. He's basically the best thing to happen to this show since S1-3. So I love this adorable psycho and I found that there is literally maybe 3 KaixOC fics. Come on, fandom! I'm going through withdrawals here. Ehem. Basically this is my two cents to this badass.

Before you starts this story you should be aware of the following:

- This story is set from OC's POV. Meaning that there will be a lot of things left unsaid and stuff constantly happening behind the scenes. A person's view of a situation can be a bit flawed, especially if emotions are involved. So always keep that in mind when reading this.

- This story will get very dark later on. It may seem cute and a bit adorable at times but it's like quicksand, except it's slowsand. This story is going to be quite the abyss. We all know how Kai is.

- Since we still don't know some things about Kai and the Gemini Coven, there is going to be some creative licenses taken with the material. I will try to adapt the story if things change with future episodes though.

- There were pictures of Kai smiling with Jo, and on multiple occasions when he mentions other people he seemed to have had quite positive relationships with them right up until he killed them. Meaning that either something big happened and it made him completely snap or he was always sociopath who gradually got worse but was able to manipulate everyone into false sense of security. A little factor I'm going to be playing off here on this story.

Enjoy!

"And as I lay alone in a cold bed, I wonder to myself, 'What if no one else will ever like my sort of crazy?'" - k.k

Portland, Oregon

September 22th, 1989

"I'm going to do it."

Those words were spoken with such cool conviction I looked up from my used copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. From the corner of my eye I saw Gary glance at me before focusing his gaze on our friend Mary. Her clear green eyes were almost laser focused onto something behind me. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line, eyes squinting in the late September sun as she inhaled deeply, seemingly pleased with the statement – as if something about those words just made utter sense to her.

I looked at my life-long friend for a long minute before finally glancing behind me to find what had captured her attention so wholly. Standing on the other side of the courtyard and in what appeared to be a very deep conversation were the Parker Twins. Josette Parker stood tall, her hands crossed over her chest, jet black hair blowing in the breeze as she explained something to her twin in a hushed voice. Her usual half-smile was missing and she seemed strangely unhappy about something. Though we were both same age and had at least half of the same classes, we have never said more than a few words to each other in long years of knowing one another. Josette was kind and got along with people well, not to mention how beautiful she was. Someone always ended up asking her to school dances and her strong academic performance also made her one of teacher's favourites.

But of course I knew that Mary's focus was not on Josette herself and rather on her twin. Malachai Parker was leaning against the cafeteria building, looking like he was at complete ease as he gazed down at his sister. From where I was sitting it looked almost like he was grinning at her, his stance relaxed, head tilted to one side. I was long aware of Mary's fascination with our classmate. It was no wonder too. Malachai was handsome and charming at best of times; he had this effortless, smooth way with people that seemed to fascinate everyone around him. He was the kind of person you both admired and wanted to be like or you avoided because you were secretly jealous of him. Personally I was stuck somewhere in the middle. I've never spoken with him before but it did not escape my notice that he had no friends. Unlike his twin, Malachai did not have any close relations in school though he oozed charisma that attracted people to him all the time.

I always thought that there was something unsettling about him.

"Maybe you should stop staring," I pointed out casually. "I doubt staring at him like some perverted stalker is going to help you to create a positive first impression."

I heard Gary choke down a snicker, and Mary's face soured. Her eyes finally left the target of her daydreams as she turned to face me, her face stony. "Maybe you should not talk at all," Mary shot back a little coolly, and I raised my hand in defeat.

"Evie has a point, M. You've been lusting after Parker for two years now. Just tell him," Gary intervened, ever the peacemaker. Mary barely glanced his way, her gaze focused on me.

Things have been a little tense between me and Mary lately. We've been best friends since cradle days and I've always considered her more like a sister I've never had. However things changed last year when Mary ran into us after Biology and very loudly announced that she was in love with Malachai Parker. At first we teased her for it – I certainly didn't take her little crush seriously like I should have, purely of how incompatible I thought they were. Something about Malachai had rubbed me the wrong way since we first started high school together years ago. He had never hurt anyone or spoken ill of anyone I knew, but I was always unexplainably wary of him.

After Mary started coming up with names for their three children and talk about her dream house where she was going to live as Mrs. Parker, I realised that Mary's feelings were far more serious than I first predicted. And so I made my dislike for Malachai Parker as obvious as I could without outright stating it. Mary resented my dislike for him almost as much as I resented the idea of my best friend getting involved with the boy everyone either avoided or adored.

"Stay out of it Gary," Mary was quick to rebuke and this time it was Gary's turn to raise his hands in surrender. "You don't understand anything about real love."

I knew that Mary didn't mean those words to come out quite as coldly as they did because a moment later I saw guilt flash across her face, but it was already too late. For a moment I felt my own frustration boil over and words came spilling out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"Don't talk with him like that," I said seriously, "We're trying to help you even though we do not agree with you choice. You could have told Parker months ago how you felt about him instead of rubbing it into our faces every day and pining after him every second of the day."

I regretted my words almost as soon as I spoke them. I knew that it wasn't Mary's fault that she liked Malachai. We had no say in who we liked, and this time I was the one to swallow my guilt as I saw Mary frown in hurt before her hurt morphed into anger. I noticed few people look in our direction after my little outburst but I ignored them as Mary exhaled sharply, her gaze cold as she scoffed at me.

"God, if you're so jealous of me Evelyn you should have just said so earlier," she determined coldly, her anger boiling over and I felt my fingers tighten around the battered spine of my book. Sort of hush had fallen over the courtyard and I could feel everyone's eyes now focused on us. "Some friend you are. I've always had your back and this how you repay me? Constantly pointing out how stupid my decision is…well I'm very sorry Miss. Perfect! Jesus Christ why can't you just be happy for me? You know what? No, I don't even want to talk with you until you stop being such a condescending bitch."

With that Mary turned around, grabbed her bag and stalked off angrily, her shoulders stiff, head held high. I could feel a tight ball building in my throat, making it hard to breath. There was complete silence around me and I blinked rapidly, willing away the urge to cry.

I should have seen this coming from a mile away; the tension between us had been building for months, building to a point we could hardly talk normally without butting heads. Building to a point I began ignoring my friend whenever she spoke of her feelings, then to a point I barely paid her feelings and thoughts any attention at all.

Mary was right, I was a condescending bitch.

I had no right to judge my best friend simply because she liked some guy I mildly disliked. A guy I disliked for no apparent reason as well. God, I was awful.

"Evie…" Gary breathed after finally snapping out of his daze of shock.

I hurriedly gathered my books, heavily swallowing my hurt and humiliation as I realised that the whole school had witnessed our little disagreement. My hands shook horribly as I flung my bag over my shoulder and jumped off the bench we were sitting on. Gary tried to stop me but I brushed past him hurriedly, my head down. I was already halfway towards the school entrance when Gary called out my name loudly one last time. I stopped as if against my will and turned around, an apology on the tip of my tongue but as I looked back at my friend something else caught my attention over his shoulder.

Malachai Parker was no longer paying any attention to his twin. Instead his emotionless, intense gaze was focused solely on me.

Rest of the day was painful. My fight with Mary seemed to be the topic of conversation everywhere I went and I constantly avoided meeting anyone's eyes directly out of shame. Gary tried to talk with me on multiple occasions, consoling me in the fact that Mary did not mean what she said but I knew her better – and so I knew that she meant every word of what she said, and most importantly she was right.

Mary was the exact opposite of Gary. While he hardly left my side, Mary avoided me like I was the plague.

By the time History rolled around I was almost itching for school to be over so I could go home and leave today's events behind me. Usually, History was one of my favourite lessons but today I could find no joy in Mr. Doosan's lecture about Civil War.

Gary was burning holes into my head, Mary was avoiding my side of the room and others were counting down minutes before the weekend officially started.

My day went downhill alongside the weather. In just few hours the hot rays of sun were replaced by an overcast grey sky with dark, rumbling clouds gathering menacingly in the horizon.

As last few minutes of our day counted down, Mr. Doosan picked up a pile of papers off his table waving them around with very little enthusiasm.

"I have to say I've expected better effort from you lot," he said tiredly as he held our summer homework in his lap. We were tasked to write a maximum of three pages on our chosen field or period of history. I spent three weeks of my summer break researching into my topic and writing up that paper. All of sudden, I felt a twinge of fear that I might have failed the first official piece of work that counted towards my grade. "Only few people impressed me enough to get an A so the rest of you better think about your next piece of homework more intently or I won't hesitate to fail you. Good luck passing your senior year then."

Some people shifted uncomfortably in their seats as Mr. Doosan randomly called names forward to collect their paper. Some looked upset, some looked relieved upon seeing their mark. Sometimes Mr. Doosan said something to the student quietly, sometimes he didn't. He was known for being one of the best teachers in this school, also one of the toughest to impress. He marked your work harshly but fairly. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he was my favourite teacher.

When Mary's name got called she collected her paper without so much as look in our direction – the exact opposite of what we usually did. We usually held our thumbs up to encourage one another, or made funny faces to make the other laugh while some teacher was talking with them. I felt my heart squeeze when she exited the room without breaking her stride once.

I waited patiently for my turn when a name caught my attention. None other than Malachai Parker brushed past me as he approached the teacher's desk, and I realised too late that I had completely forgotten that we shared this class. Mr. Doosan said something to him quietly and I saw Malachai nod once, say something that made Mr. Doosan actually laugh and walk out of the classroom without backwards glance.

With three people left, and sure knowledge that Gary was late for his basketball practice, I let him take my turn when Mr. Doosan finally called my name. Gary shot me a grateful smile as he half-jogged towards the desk and upon seeing his mark gave a sharp shake of his head towards the window and a two finger tap against his leg.

I let out a breath. He got a C+. He passed but I knew it was nowhere near as good of a grade as he wanted it to be.

Unsurprisingly, Gary decided he had to wait for me but I only shook my head at his worried expression. I did not feel like talking to him anyway, and I knew he had no choice but to leave due to being late for practice.

I was the last one left in the classroom when I finally approached Mr. Doosan's table. He gave me a small smile as he handed over the last paper on his desk. A proud, dark red A sat on top of the page. I felt a surge of pride, completely overjoyed that all of my hard work paid off after all.

"Good work, Miss. Grey," Mr. Doosan acknowledged calmly, "Conclusion needed a bit more polishing and a more defined structure but other than that it was one of the best from the lot."

I was sure that my grin was so wide my face was splitting in two, "Thank you, sir."

Mr. Doosan only gave me slight nod and gestured towards the classroom door.

"Go on then," he spoke light-heartedly, "Won't want you to get caught in the storm."

I was already halfway out of the door when I wished him a good weekend and ran towards my locker. My hands were shaking again – this time out of happiness rather than hurt – as I opened my locker to put away my books. The corridors were empty at this point; it was a Friday afternoon and everyone rushed out of school as quickly as they could.

Hearing chatter somewhere further down the corridor and realising I wasn't as alone as I originally thought I was, I hurried to gather my things before anyone noticed me. I was just about to close my locker door when a sharp, cold laugh echoed across the empty corridor. I froze, cautiously looking around, my eyes trying to pinpoint where exactly the sound came from.

A loud sob followed only a few seconds after the laugh and I straightened, suddenly alert.

A figure abruptly came flying around the corner almost smacking into me as they dashed hurriedly past me. It took me only a second to recognise the figure and a name escaped my lips in a desperate cry.

"Mary?!"

With tears streaking down her cheeks and her blonde hair dishevelled, Mary looked like a picture of devastation.

Though it took only few seconds at most for me to process what I just saw, Mary was already halfway towards the exit and with my heart beating faster than a drum I slammed my locker door forcefully. My bag smacked against my side painfully as I sprinted after my best friend, my hair flying around me as I dashed down the six steps of school entrance.

Body slamming harshly against the entrance doors, the old wood groaned ever so slightly, before it finally gave in and opened with a deep screech.

My throat dry and lungs heaving, I looked around widely, trying desperately spot where my friend ran off to. Was she hurt? Did someone hurt her? It was no easy task to make Mary cry.

"Mary!"

There was no answer to my cry. Only silence and a distant rumble of thunder somewhere in far distance.

I called out her name few more times but there was no answer then either. Desperation started to curl inside of me when I heard the entrance door open. For a moment, I thought that it was Mary coming out because she actually ran into a bathroom further down another hallway. However, much to my displeasure the last person I wanted to see cam sauntering through the door.

Malachai Parker had his hands shoved in his pockets while he descended down the steps, his frame hunched over slightly, and an odd little smile on his face. He paused in his step upon noticing me, his head tilting to one side just like during lunch.

He seemed entirely amused by something, his eyes narrowing almost playfully in my direction.

"Oh," he breathed very slowly as if coming to some great conclusion, "So you're the one who made all that racket in there," he spoke smoothly, jerking his head towards the school.

This was the first time he'd ever spoken with me directly. I was under sure assumption that he was not aware of my existence – a fact that I was more than happy with. That was until today of course. Now I felt like the school at least had some idea as to who I was.

I was reeling from this conclusion right until I wasn't. Because suddenly it all made sense. I've never been a violent person – in fact, I was the exact opposite of that, but Mary was practically my sister and the stress of today mixed together to make something very dangerous.

One moment I was fine. Under complete control.

The next, I was seeing red, flying up the stairs like a bat from hell. My fingers sunk deeply into his jacket, pulling him towards me.

"What did you do?" I snarled lowly, hardly recognising my own voice. My fingers were shaking, sweat gathered at my temple and I breathed heavily, my heart banging in my chest like a wild animal.

For a moment he looked almost startled by my little stunt before he stilled and grinned happily at me, "Ah! Would you look at that? Not a complete pushover, eh?"

I knew that he was referring to the verbal beating I took from Mary and my rather cowardly escape after. His voice was low as he stared at me intently. Seeing the blue-grey shine of his eyes made me falter ever so slightly; as if I somehow realised both how he towered over me and how unnervingly close we were to each other all at once.

I hardened my features, willing my anger to come back, "Answer me. What did you do to my friend?"

"Me! I didn't do anything," he answered with a slight note of irritation. "What happened between you two, though, hm? A little domesti-c? I mean she only came onto me after lessons finished. All flushed and stuff, blabbering some really lame love confession or something. I don't know. It was slightly annoying so I told her to go do something better with her life. I was pretty nice to her."

Every word he spoke felt like a mockery. Everything from the quirky, chipper blabber of the words to the specific emphasis on certain words and too long pauses between sentences. My hands slipped, and I pulled away from him in disgust as I shook my head in disbelief.

"She loves you and you dismissed her like some irritating toddler. That's just…cruel."

For a second I was too lost to say anything at all. But a moment later silence was broken.

"She loves me?"

My head snapped up and it took a long moment for regret on Malachai's face to register fully.

"I…never…have I meant if I knew—" he spoke softly, his brows furrowing. I was so shocked by the sudden switch in his personality that I was left blinking slowly as Malachai quickly grasped onto my hands lifting them into his own as he squeezed them tightly.

"You have to believe me when I say that I never would have said something like that your friend, had I know how serious her feelings were."

No funny speech patterns or emphasis on words; he sounded genuine as he gazed pleadingly into my eyes. I swallowed thickly, observing him shrewdly. I tugged onto my hands and for a second I was sure that he wasn't going to release me but a moment later his grip loosened and I quickly snatched my hands back.

"I—I have to find her. It would be nice if you could…um…apologise to her later, okay?" I stuttered, completely thrown by the sudden change and guilt on Malachai's face.

Practically skipping down the school steps, I headed in what was probably the wrong direction. My steps faltered when I heard a voice call my attention.

I glanced over my shoulder a little warily. Malachai was the bottom of the stairs gazing in my direction. Thunder boomed loudly, this time much closer than before. I felt the wind start to pick up as well.

"I will apologise to your friend, I promise," he reassured me with a slight, genuine smile on his face.

I stared at him for a second longer, trying to convince myself that those words were not a threat even though they bizarrely sounded like one.

A single nod was the only response he got from me before I was far enough for him to no longer see me. About a block away I leaned against a building, and ran a hand over my face, my breaths shallow.

"What the hell was that?" I mumbled to myself.

First few drops of rain fell from the sky then and I hurried home, thinking all the way back how Malachai's voice was sincere and expression genuine but somehow his eyes had seemed anything but.

By the time I got home rain was pelting harshly against our house, drenching me completely. Mum was waiting for me with a warm towel in her hands and worried expression on her face.

By the time I wiggled out of my soaked clothes and warmed up with a cup of hot tea, my mum was already marvelling at how bad the storm was, worrying about the tomato patch we grew in the garden. My eyes, however, were locked on the phone that sat peacefully on the small coffee table in the corner.

My mum's words faded into pleasant murmur as I approached the phone and dialled the number I knew by heart. There was a long dial tone and I wondered whether the weather was so bad it could not connect my call. As if reaffirming my thoughts, a loud bang shook the house, flashes of lighting splitting the sky open.

I waited for another few seconds and just as I was about to put the phone down I heard the familiar crackle of the phone being picked up.

"Hello, Smith House. How can I help?" a warm voice called from the other end of receiver.

My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed shakily, "H-Hello Mrs. Smith, this is Evelyn. I was just, um, wondering if Mary got home alright?"

There was a slight pause as another clap of thunder tore across the sky and I waited patiently for an answer.

"Oh, Evie. Yes, Mary got home safe," she confirmed quietly. "She's feeling a bit under the weather, unfortunately. So I'm afraid that she won't be able to come to the phone."

I could feel my face drop at those words but I tried my hardest to sound cheerful as I chocked out a hurried, "That's fine. Well tell her I called and I hope she feels better soon. Good day."

I slammed the phone down as quickly as I could after that, releasing a troubled breath from between my clenched teeth. Guilt and worry were eating away at me, my mood hitting rock bottom. All of a sudden my sweet tea no longer tasted sweet at all. It took another two minutes before I realised I could hardly see anything from the tears clouding my vision. I wiped them away before my mother noticed and climbed the stairs to my room as quickly as I could.

There was no need to make others feel miserable as well.

The storm did not subside until late Saturday morning.

I spend most of my time locked inside my room, doing my homework and feeling generally sorry for myself. Due to me being a quiet and a private person to begin with, my mother did not bother me too much and found nothing too peculiar about my reclusive behaviour.

By the time Sunday morning came around no one was picking up the phone in Smith household. I tried to reach Mary on multiple occasions, feverish with the need to apologise and make this right between us again. I was in the wrong and I was willing to admit it if only it was enough to get my friend back. Of course it was only a matter of time before they stopped picking up the phone all together, before Mrs. Smith ran out of excuses to give me and prickly half-truths. I only wished I felt less bitter each time the phone continued ringing. I even went over to Mary's house twice. On both occasions I was met with a slight flutter of the curtains and a closed door.

"Evie, darling! There's someone at the door for you."

I glanced up from the last question of my Calculus homework as I crawled off my bed. Apprehension surged in my chest as I slowly descended the stairs, immediately spotting my mother's curly dark hair waiting for me in the hallway. The door was slightly open and I could see a shadow of someone standing on the porch.

My mum smiled widely when she looked up at me, her expression sly as I unhurriedly approached her. She brushed her hand tenderly against my shoulder and I frowned in confusion when she shot me a wink.

I faintly heard her say that she was going to make us something and I held my breath as I grasped the door handle.

Mary. It had to be. She came over to sort everything out in person – it had happened before plenty of times. Biting the inside of my cheek, I tugged the door open, my expression hopeful as my gaze locked with the person standing on the other side of the door.

Hopefulness fade immediately, and instead my lips parted in slight shock, a sharp breath catching in my lungs. The last person I expected to see was standing on my porch, waiting to be invited in.

Malachai Parker was standing before me with a wide grin on his face that broadened even further when our eyes met.

"Well hello there, stranger."

AN: Boom! Hope you guys enjoyed it. I'm a little wary to post this since I haven't written anything for TVD in ages, and I really hope I'm doing my favourite psycho some justice. Any improvements, tips or general comments are much appreciated. Updates for this may be a bit wonky for a next month or so due to my ridiculously busy schedule but I doubt I will be able to stay away from Kai for long. ;)

A.