Hi. So my original account, Tabitha Frost, well, I forgot which e-mail I used for that account (that's what you get when you have so much e-mails, you idiot), and not only that, I also forgot what the password to that account is...so yeah, I've lost that account for good. I've tried logging in with all of my e-mails and typed in every password combination I could think of, but still, nada. So yeah, I need to start over (and it sucks, big time. creys.) and I am reposting all of my stories in this new account. I'm going to do some more proofreading, and edit the stories too, and hopefully shape them to perfection (amen). So if you see a story posted with the same name and has (almost) the exact same words, I am not plagiarizing it. It's the same story, written by the same person, and posted also by the same person.
Ohhkayy.. so, I am putting an end to this annoying author's note and I hope you'll like this one! :)
Disclaimer: Don't, and sadly won't, ever own The Vampire Diaries or any of its characters.
/
in the darkness i'll see the light
/
Everything feels better when she closes her eyes. That way, she can see things the way she wants them to be.
She would picture herself in a house similar to the one she grew up in, with the smell of fresh baked apple pie filling the air, and the joyous laughter of children drumming in her ears-the all-American dream of an all-American girl. Then she would go to the source of the noise, entering the room with her hands on her hip, preparing herself to play a bad cop just for a little while and tell the young children to behave-just to be greeted with a chorus of 'Happy birthday!'. And then she would look down and she would see the familiar faces of a blond boy with striking blue eyes, and a dark haired little girl who looks exactly like him, both grinning at her while the girl holds out a cake to her. There's a text made of chocolate cream written on top of it, that reads "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOMMY" and then there's a big fat heart shape in the end of the sentence, and her cheeks would hurt because she's smiling so wide and her eyes would start burning as she feels them get all watery, then she would feel this overwhelming warm feeling in her heart; her beating, living, heart. She would chuckle at herself then, for being so mushy, as the tears run down her cheek. Then she would kneel down and envelope the two children in a hug; very tightly, as if she is not letting them go. Ever.
She closes her eyes, and when she takes a glance at her own hands, she could see that they're a little bit wrinkled and she smiles. She smiles because she likes it; because she wants them to be that way; she wants to age-to be normal. She would never say this kind of thing in the past, because she was young and she wanted to be different and she thought it is just great to be this different. But as the years gone by-as she got older (well, mentally), she realizes it's not what she really wants.
When she closes her eyes, all she can see is everything she wants. There's no vampire, there's no hybrids. No werewolves, no doppelgangers, no witches-nothing. Just a safe, normal world with no supernatural threats. A world where her childhood dreams come true, a world where she can feel truly in bliss.
But then she would open her eyes again, and reality would sink in. She's sucked back into the harsh world she's truly living in. She would open her eyes, and she would feel alone. Her children are gone. The warm house is gone. The safety she felt before is nowhere to be found. Instead, she finds herself as a vampire, instead of being a normal human-instead of being a mother. She finds herself sitting in a bar, drinking with another vampire. The one that has abused, and used her like a rag doll, and tried to kill her multiple times too. But he's also the one that has saved her, multiple times.
She glances at him, watching as he takes a sip of what probably has been his hundredth drink today. They might be drinking together, but he doesn't talk. Neither does she. They just sit there, enjoying each other's company. It's not like these days they actually talk to each other, anyway. Well, except for his usual snarky comments and her witty and critical comebacks. He's not really the chit chat type but there's something that's been nagging her and so she braces herself to ask him the question.
"How do you get over it?" she begins, and it catches his attention, though he's still not looking at her, "Those dreams you had when you weren't what you are now- how you wish you hadn't been what you are now?"
A part of her is telling her that she's stupid to ask this kind of question to him, of all people. Because it seems to her he's enjoying this whole vampire thing so much. Or he was. She knows he enjoyed killing people and taking advantage of them just because he can (or at least he did, before he started pawning over Elena and started being her vampire doll). She knows he loves being superior, and he thinks that vampires are superior creatures ("We're at the top of the food chain, Blondie," he said to her the other day). But another part of her says that all of this; the way he behaves, the way he carries himself, is all just a cover; just the thick layer of him that not much people can see through. She thinks there's a soul beneath all this; a being just like her, who was once human and once could feel too.
They are silent for quite a while, until he puts his glass down and voices his reply.
"You never do," he says, and she can't read the look in his eyes. He reaches for the bottle of booze and pours himself another drink. "You just move on, but you never forget and you will never get over it. You just keep going, finding something else to live."
By something else to him, probably means all the killings, the sex, the booze and the fun and the thrill he's had over the decades, she muses silently.
She stares at him for a while, then shakes her head and finishes the rest of her drink. She closes her eyes, and a smile creeps into her face. She starts to see them again; those things she wants to happen. She knows Damon is right; she knows that she has to find something else to focus on. But she thinks some more days, or maybe months, or maybe years, holding on those dreams wouldn't hurt. She got forever to live, anyway. And only when one day she gets tired of dreaming- of wishing- she would stop.
Maybe it's the drink (although she's not sure vampire can really get drunk); she doesn't really know. But everything does feel better when she closes her eyes. And it's the closest she can get to feel human.
/
Fin.