Blair Gilbert
Description: When 11 year old Blair Gilbert went along with her parents to pick up her drunk older sister from a last day of school party, she didn't realize how much of a blessing it would be for them to crash off the side of Wickery Bridge, until she woke up to news of her parents death and the chain on her magic broken. Finally, able to live her life without fear or pain, Blair's determined to find the man she's been dreaming about since before she can remember.
Prologue
My name is Blair Gilbert and I'm looking for Niklaus M. I have information that he would need about a 1000-year-old curse (doppelganger and moonstone included). You can contact me at BlairGbert1023 gmail. com at any time.
p.s. I promise to be cooperative, so please don't murder me in my sleep.
p.p.s If you decide to take over any bodies, I would recommend my uncle, John Gilbert. Not only would he happen have some potentially useful information regarding a certain Petrova, nobody here really likes him, so they wouldn't notice any out of character behavior from him.
(Posted: 8/1/2018. 3:40 pm. Mystic Falls, VA.)
Chapter 1
The last thing I remember was an ear-piercing screech, a severe jerk, and cold. So unbearably cold. Then nothing.
When I wake up its to, way too bright fluorescent lights, the sterile smell of a hospital and the roughness of a standard issue blanket under my fingertips. My groan of pain goes unanswered and I'm unable to move my arms to push the call bell. I can't move any part if my body, but before I can freak out, I fall back into the darkness.
The cycle repeats on and off for who knows how long. A few days as far as I can tell, and that's only because sometimes when I open my eyes it's dark, and others it's blinding.
Hopefully this insanity will end soon.
oOoOoOoOoOo
"Blair? Blair can you hear me? It's John, Blair. You need to wake up. Now."
Hell. This must be Hell. Bright lights, pain, and an annoying voice that won't let me stay in the black nothingness.
Ever so slowly I peel my eyelids open and standing over me is the devil himself. Uncle John.
Yep. Definitely Hell.
"Blair. Good, you're awake. How do you feel?"
I snort. Like you care.
Groaning, I close my eyes again. When I speak, my voice is hoarse from disuse, so I sit up and take a drink of water.
"Peachy keen John. Not like I was in a major car accident. Is there something I can help you with today, or are you just trying to meet your daily quota of assholery by waking me up from a wonderful drug induced sleep?"
The backhand to the face was expected but probably would've hurt more, if I wasn't in so much pain already.
"Watch. Your. Mouth" he growls at me.
When we make eye contact, I match his glare, but let loose a bitter chuckle. "You're losing your touch John. Either that, or my face isn't already bruised enough to cover another unexplained bruise."
John backs up a bit and I send him a smirk because we both know I'm right. If he's still within reaching distance of me and I say something else he doesn't like, he will hit me again, and he can't really afford that, seeing as I'm already in the hospital and they will ask questions.
"Your parents funeral is tomorrow, and you will be going. Afterward, you will be going back home. Jenna-" he spits her name like its poison on his tongue, "will be the guardian of you, Jeremy and Elena. After the funeral, I will be leaving town."
On the outside I don't react to the information, but on the inside, I'm sagging with relief. With Greyson, Miranda and John out of the picture, I'll only need my guard up around Elena, and that'll be a cake walk.
"That's fine and all John, but I'm not going to the funeral. Honestly I'm much more likely to dance on Greyson's grave then play the devastated daughter. I'm sure my absence can be explained away by my injuries or something. After all, nobody is going to fault 11-year-old me for not showing up. I mean a tragic accident, leading to severe injuries and the death of her loving parents is a lot for a little girl to deal with."
The rage is flaring in John's eyes, but he doesn't make a move towards me. "You will not make a mockery of this family Blair, and you will be at the funeral. You will do what is expected of you."
At the word family I can't help but laugh. The Gilberts wouldn't know family if it was branded onto their foreheads.
"Is that right John? Say, maybe I should go to the funeral after all. I mean, how do you think the town would react to me letting the skeletons out of our families closet? Just laying it all out there for them to judge. Something scandalous, like Greyson's gay lover that lives in the next town over, or that Miranda popped pain pills like they were candy? Or even your fetish for beating on underage girls? We both know how much you get off on that, but I'm sure the mayor and sheriff would be equally as interested in the information."
John's face was so red, it looked like steam was going to start pouring from his ears at any second.
"You listen to me John. The days of me taking your shit are over, got it? I've got loads of proof to back up my claims, and now that it's just you standing in my way, well, you're not that scary.
"I know that together, you and Greyson were a pretty much unstoppable team. Neither of you would hesitate to kill me and stage it as an accident, and Miranda would be too coked out to notice if you shot me in the head right in front of her. "But they're both rotting in Hell right now, so that leaves just you, and I'm not impressed. Your nothing more than a child beating pedophile, Johnny boy."
I show him my left hand, and it's ever so satisfying to see the color drain from his face.
"That's right uncle," I spit at him, "the magic draining leash, sorry, protection band, you've chained me with, broke during the accident. My magic has returned to me, and it's just begging to be released. Now I suggest you run along and grab a doctor so I can get out of here. I miss my bed."
With equal parts fear and hatred shining brightly in his eyes, John sends me one last weak glare before silently exiting my room, to do as I said.
oOoOoOoOoOo
After John drops me back home, I hobble my way to my bedroom, thanking every deity out there that I was an accident baby. The house just didn't have enough bedrooms upstairs when I was born, so my room was built on the ground floor of the house and had its own private bathroom.
My room was the same as I had left it, only a little dusty, but a twitch of my finger cleared that right up. Gods I've missed my magic.
Next, I head to the bathroom to shower the hospital off me; I feel grimy from being in the hospital for two weeks.
After my shower, and the long painful process of brushing out my long curly red hair, I slip on a sleep shirt and crash into my bed.
Tomorrow I'll put my plan into action.
A/N: This is a little plot bunny thats been hounding me for a while, so I figured I'd put it out there. Leave a review and let me know what you think!
-Thanks! BBP :)