"We can't just leave her here, Dean. She would be dead if it wasn't for us! You know this isn't the right thing to do."
"What do you suggest we do then, huh? Carry her along with us?" The voice paused, followed by a low chuckle. "We don't have time for this, Sam. Dad could be anywhere…"
"[Dad] wouldn't leave a girl with bite marks all over her body stranded in a motel room. We have to wait until she wakes up."
The silence that followed left a hallowed feeling within the pit of my stomach. A part of me had almost felt as if I had imagined it all because there was no other noise ever made again. All that could barely make out was the faint shallow breaths that poured from my mouth. I could feel the complete and utter stillness of my body—yet my sight was dark. All that I could [truly], sense was the soft plush surface that I was laying upon. My hands that were at my side could sense the soft fabric, creamy almost in a sense, however, that seemed to be all. There was an odd sort of sense that washes over you whenever you are blind to the world around you; at first, there is a sort of panic, but then your body begins to rely upon all of your other senses to comprehend the world around you. Yet, the world around me seemed to be empty… I thought back to the voices that I heard before, wondering if I actually had imagined them… [Or], if perhaps I had been the girl the men were speaking of.
With the slamming of a door, the blood that flowed within my veins bloomed into full livelihood, forcing my body to stir in full motion. I could feel my legs begin to move, along with my arms that helped push my body up off the soft area. With my elbows propping my torso upwards, my eyes were the last to become animated. My lids worked themselves like soft butterflies, working against the weight of the world until the bright sunlight that streamed through the open curtains breached them. I was in a small room, a motel room, [alone]. A part me felt as if I should have been afraid, or maybe even question why it was that I was here, but none of those thoughts actually crossed my mind… Pushing myself up off the bed, my legs guided me aimlessly throughout the compact room, stepping over various clothes and bags. My mind instantly went to the two male voices from before… Sam and Dean… However, perhaps they could have been mine. The idea seemed plausible enough in its own way.
The sharp chime of a phone brought me out of my questionable thoughts. My head turned quickly towards the sound, however the sharp movement brought about a new sort of pain that I had not quite noticed before. As my hand rose to aid the sight upon my neck that throbbed, the instant my fingers made contact with the skin, a flooding wave of images rose within my thoughts…
In a mere instant, I was brought back to another time and place that seemed far off from the motel room I was in now. Instead of being in the room, my eyes were looking into that of familiar crystalized blue eyes that looked into mine with an appearance so haunting that my soul itself shook to the core. He watched me with so much terror in his stare as another man fed into his neck, draining the blood from him completely… Second by second, the light from this man slipped away and there was nothing that I could do, but watch in complete horror. I knew this man, I cared for him deeply, and to watch him die slowly before me left me broken. To watch his body fall to the ground, and have those lifeless eyes stare back at me broke something else entirely… My own knees dropped to the ground just as his body did, and wails of endless sorrows poured from my mouth. Like waterfalls, my eyes poured water to no end, weeping the death that I had just witnessed before me. I could not recall his name, that blue-eyed man that my heart and soul recognized so well, but I knew that the loss of him would haunt me forever. As I wept upon the ground, my gaze altered to meet that of the man who killed the blue-eyed man. Suddenly, the tears that poured from my eyes were not for the death that I witnessed, but for myself… The menacing expression that had just killed my friend was now staring back at me. Death was right before me, and all that I could do was weep.
If it were not for the consistent ringing of the phone, I felt as if I would have stayed in the horror of my own mind forever. Shaking away the ill feeling as well as the tears that began to form within my eyes, I walked over the bedside table. The screen read, Unknown Caller, yet I still pressed the answer button and lifted it up to my ear. "Hello?"
Silence.
"Hello?" I question again with a quick look of confusion washing over me. For a moment, I considered hanging up, but there was something on the other line that old me someone was there… Breathing. It was soft and quick, nearly undetectable, but it was there… Someone was there. "Hello? I know you…" The line shortly after cutout; a sigh dropped from my lips as I placed the phone back upon the table. That single sigh felt as if my entire body was giving out before me. My body felt like air, flowing through the breeze, allowing gravity to take me anywhere that it wanted to. The thoughts within my mind faded away, and the support that my knees were giving the rest of my body seemed to disappear. As my knees gave out, my hands found their way to my face… I was worn out—lost to the world around me—not knowing where I was or how I was going to find a way out of home... Wherever [home] had actually been. My thoughts circled around the mere fact that there was no hope. I could not remember anything—whom I was or where I belonged in this world were all lost on me. There was no hope, I thought. There was no hope for me.
Through my tearful sobs, my body jerked as a lone hand pressed against my shoulder. "Don't touch me," the words that left my mouth, that fear that was in them, scared even myself. As I drew my hands away, I saw the boyish face of the man before me… He looked as if he could not harm a fly, yet with his single touch, I remembered the man who tore into my flesh and left my body stranded. I remembered [him].
"I'm not going to hurt you… Don't move," His hand reached out once more, daring to get closer to my skin. I recalled that same voice from before… Sam. "You're really hurt. Your neck, it's bleeding… Sit back down on the bed and let me get you something."
As his hand drew closer, I could already begin to feel the painful memories flooding my mind, and I allowed a small cry to fall from my vocals. "Don't!" From the corner of my eye, the light that was streaming into the small room hit the golden handle of the door, signaling the only exit that I had. This man may have been my only savior… However, he could have also been just like the other… I could not take that chance. Glancing back and forth between the boyish faced man and the door, I knew that there was only going to be a few seconds gap for a small chance that I would be able to get out of here… I was going to take that chance.
With my breath hitched within my throat, I lunged my body over the bed which had been the only thing separating the door and me. To my surprise, the man did not instantly rush after me… He simply sat there with a confused look donning his features. Casting one look back at him over my shoulder, I opened the door and started in a dead bolt. Off within the distance, I could barely hear the words "Wait, don't go," follow behind me, but I was not willing to stop and follow his pleas.
It was nearly impossible to know how long I was running for… My body was far too weak to have made it as far as it felt. Once the parking lot of the motel was behind me, the streets of what appeared to be a small town was laid out before me. All around people turned their heads to gawk at the girl with the blood dripping from her neck, but I tried not to look at them. Each time I met their gaze, a panic settled within my chest. Each face that I saw reminded me of death; their looks could change drastically in an instant… They would appear normal at first, and then I could see the veins appear beneath their eyes. Each moment that I would stare longer, I could almost see their mouths opening to reveal the lethal points of their fangs.
Finally, my feet to drag me no further… My body was giving out to the pain that coursed through my bloodstream. As I pushed myself farther, I barely managed to reach a dark Impala that was parked off to the side. With my legs giving out beneath me, my body plunged against the side of the car… For a mere second, my eyes caught sight of a man residing within. The look within his eyes was knowing, but my eyes refocused upon the window to focus upon my own reflection. I saw the girl, a face I knew all too well, myself… but something had been different… The longer that I managed to stare, the more clear the unraveling picture became. My face stared back at me, with eyes large of confusion, but it morphed into something else… Something foreign… Something darker. Those looming brown irises started to produce cryptic dark veins under their lids. The look that once seemed so full of innocence twisted into my own dark nightmare. I was the killer of my own mind—I was the fear and the darkness… I was my own killer.
"Easy there… Don't want you hitting your head again."
"What?" I could feel a trembling confusion settling upon my words while a distant throb began to arise along the side of my head. "What happened?"
"Well," The man began with somewhat of a smirk turning over along his mouth. "Should I start with the part where you were running down the street like a crazy woman? Or should I cut straight to where you threw yourself against my car, screamed, and then passed out right on the sidewalk?"
Oddly enough as it seemed, I could feel some remnants of a smile making itself known upon my mouth. The things that he was speaking of seemed foreign to me. I could barely make out the images of frantically running through the street… Yet, every time I had the same monstrous faces were there to greet me. Lowering my field of vision away from his face, my eyes soon turned to look at his hand that had been lingering upon my shoulder. Earlier, I had been so afraid of Sam touching me, because the sheer contact reminded me of the pain of nights prior. However, with [his] touch, I did not have any fear or woes… It was almost normal in a sense. Sadly, I was not even sure what normal actually meant anymore. How were you suppose to know what any amount of normality was for yourself when you were not even sure who you were? "I-I don't even know what to say."
"Don't worry, com' on, let's get you up and moving." Willingly, I allowed the touch of his hand to pull me up by my elbow. Once upon my feet, I could feel all the blood race to my head, forcing my balance to become a bit unsteady.
Stumbling, my hand gripped onto his arm. "I'm sorry…"
"Com' on, let's just get you inside the car."
My body was numb as my head hit the seat of the Impala, and I was hardly in any condition to argue about the strange man putting me in his car. It was hard to figure where I ended and the rest of the world around me before. Through a dim field of vision, I watched the world pass by from the window. Various scenes of the world passed by, and somewhere deep within my heart, I could feel the light of the sun warm the darkness that I detected. There was something beautiful about watching a mother and her small child walk hand in hand through a park, or even an elderly man walking upon the sidewalks. The world could seem so very simple in its own way—almost blind to the domain of chaos that was walking all around within it. If I could pause the world around me and reside in this single one forever, I would. Nothing was more ideal than those who were blind to evil.
As the Impala finally pulled into the motel parking lot, a groan instantly fell from my lips.
"I take it you don't want to be here?" The man driving the car questioned with light humor. I did not have to turn to look at his face to know that he was smirking at my reaction.
"No," I began, a grimace beginning to appear upon my face. "It's not that."
He did not bother to ask any questions or add another comment—simply nodding at my answer, he opened his door and got out. I could already begin to see him making his way around to my side, but the small parts of myself that longed to be determined pushed open my own door. Using more effort than I would have admittedly liked to, I gripped onto the side of the car and worked my way out; all the while, he was standing over my shoulder, there to help me at any moment. The small amounts of strength that I had left slammed the door closed, before I made light movements towards the door. Instantly as I approached, I remembered the man inside… [Sam]. As my feet came to a halt with my hand upon the knob, I turned and looked at the man behind me. "Inside… Is there… I mean…" I could hardly find the correct words to say.
Pushing my hand away from the doorknob, he pressed a small key into it to unlock it. "Don't worry, it's just Sam." In a matter of seconds, the doorway was opened, revealing the same boyish faced man from earlier. When he looked at both of us, a look of relief crossed his face.
"You found her, thank God." Taking a few steps closer as myself and the other man stood in the doorway, I was the first to finally take a stride into the motel room. It was exactly the same as I had remembered it; hardly anything had changed from the hour or so that I had been gone. There was still the same cluttered that lingered upon the floor, along with endless amounts of used coffee cups. It was evident that two males lived here.
"Not exactly… She found me." Once again, he gaze an infamous smirk at the other man before walking over and dropping down upon one of the single beds. "She was running around like a mad chick. Finally she crashed right as she hit the Impala."
Sam hardly seemed to have any concern about what the other man was saying; his eyes revealed nothing but concern as they feasted upon me intently. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." The way his eyes looked at me set my skin afire. It was an unnatural concern that he had within his gaze—one that perhaps a mother would give a child. I hardly expected something such as this from a stranger. "About earlier…" I began to say before his cut me off.
"Don't worry about it. I just want to make sure you're okay. Your neck… It's not bleeding anymore." This time, when his hand reached out to touch me, I did not jerk away in fear. I could sense that he was hesitant in his movements just as my own body braced the contact, but I forced myself to be stronger—not to fear things I did not know. "Do you know who you are?"
With his fingers examining the wound upon my neck, the sharp pain from the touch coursed throughout my body… But the only pain that I felt was not from that, but from the images that flooded my mind. I pushed them away. "No…" I admitted with the shake of my head. "I have no idea where I am… Or how I got here… I just remember…" Pausing, the words ceased from my lips. I was not able to talk about what happened… About [his] death, or even the attack that was meant to bring about my own.
"Listen, you don't have to talk about it… Here," Finally, he removed his fingers from my neck and turned away. With a curious eye, I watched him walk into the back of the motel room, only to return with a single object. A purse. My purse. "This was with you when we found you… If I had to take a guess, it's yours."
Taking hold of my purse, I pried open the sides, feasting on what was within… My eyes instantly went to the largest thing within it: My [diary]. "All that was in your bag was this book and some girl stuff." Dean began to say as he sat up from the bed. Pulling my journal out, I tossed the bag aside. My heart remembered this one object—the emotional pull that it had upon me in every single way. With my finger racing over the leather bound book, the muscle memory of my touch reminded me that I had done this same action several times before. I turned it over aimlessly within my hands, never daring to open the booklet, but instead relishing in the mere memory of it all and the connection I had with it.
"This is my diary," I began, the words themselves forcing a smile to break out along my lips.
"Your diary?" Dean questioned with what I could sense to be sarcastic humor within his voice.
"This is good!" Sam added eagerly, moving closer to stand over me as I sat upon the bed. "Maybe now you'll remember who you are. We can help you get home…"
Sam's voice trailed off, but I was no longer listening… My attention lay solely upon my journal. As I held the booklet, I could feel my fingers begin to tremble. All this while, I had been wondering whom I was… And everything that I could have actually questioned was right here before me… Awaiting the second for me to unfold the mysteries that laid ahead. Why was I stalling? I looked at the journal with so much love within my heart, yet I was afraid of the world that it possessed. When Sam and Dean found me, I was alone in a back alley, nearly dead… What kind of world did I truly live in where something like that would happen to me? What kind of person was I actually?
"I think I'm going to go for a walk," I started in a haze, the words flowing so effortlessly from my mouth that they hardly seemed real.
"You're not going to try and run away again are you?" Dean questioned.
"No… I…" Pausing, I broke the stare that I had with my journal, and turned to look at both of the brothers. "Earlier, I think I saw a park just down the road… I want to be alone when I read this."
"Do you really…" Dean began before Sam cut him off.
"Let her go." Giving a single nod in my direction, I offered Sam a light smile of appreciation before I grabbed hold of my bag once again, tossing the booklet into it before starting out the motel room door.
The park was a bit farther off than I originally thought, though this time when I arrived, there was no longer the mother in her child, or anyone else really… I was alone… Just how I was meant to be… At least for [now]. When I finally reached the small bench, I sat down upon it with the journal still in hand. I hated to admit to myself that I was afraid of what I would find within the pages of my own diary. There was a whole world that I could not remember… What if I did not like the person that I was before? Could I merely leave it all behind and start as someone new? Did I have a family with people that loved me? Did I have friends? I was fearful of any outcome…With a deep breath, my fingers flipped through the pages. My eyes feasted on endless amounts of words, each seeming to have their own depth and emotion. It was not until I reached the very last entry that I finally paused. It was short, and only from a few days ago:
'Dear Diary, I do not even know if I can put into words all that has happened. There has been so much that I do not know if I actually want to believe it. I am writing this entry more for myself than anything else. For one single second, I want to say that everything is going to be okay and actually believe this time. Every time that I allow myself to have hope that things are going to be better there is some kind of bump in the road. I wanted to have faith in Stefan. I wanted to believe that he was everything that I ever wanted, and would never lie to me… I wanted to trust him so much. Now, I do not know whom I can believe anymore. Maybe it is better this way. Maybe… Just maybe. Somehow, trying to find hope is hard when you are stuck in the middle of Georgia with a self-serving manipulative vampire. I am hoping that Damon can be able to help me figure out and give some sort of light on the picture I found. Katherine. The more I think of it, I find myself sick to my stomach. I don't know what I am going to do… I want to have hope, because it is the only thing I can hang onto anymore… However, what if I am wrong?'