A Dream within a Dream
"Invisible things are the only realities."
- Edgar Allen Poe
September 7, 2009 – Mystic Falls, Virginia – Floyd Street – 5:49 A.M.
There was something so serene about the artistic effect of dawn to Benjamin Gilbert. Perhaps it was the multiple colors and transitions it could possess. Today was a perfect symbolism of his wandering thoughts. An early morning of a crisp September, the colors of amaranth pink and orange swirled the skies expanse, embellishing the earth with illuminance. It was an everyday occurrence in which he did not mind sprinting routinely to. As long as The Rolling Stones or Kansas was blaring through his earphones, he was inspired to simply observe nature at its pristine emerging.
Jogging was something he'd done faithfully since the beginning of his freshmen year of high school. It was a method to sufficiently clear his head, but to also stay into the lean, muscled shape he had worked hard to maintain (especially since he'd always seemed to eat more than the average portion of food every meal). Nowadays, muting his thoughts was the only thing keeping him still running. It was a blessing, an anchor he had discovered by his father who had used to go running with him periodically.
Keyword: used. Comprehending his turn of traitorous musings, Benjamin slowed into a halting walk and yanked out his earphones, the lyrics to Sympathy of the Devil fading gradually as the buds bounced against his chest as he trekked. He ran fingers through his ruffled dark hair, grimacing when sweat coated his hand in an attenuated layer. Wiping his hand clean against his basketball shorts, Benjamin rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms to relieve the tense muscles.
He was selfishly pleased that he had taken his parent's sudden deaths far better than both of his two siblings. At twenty-two year's old, and having just graduated with a master's in literature and art, Benjamin had read through multiple upon multiple of tragedies. Albeit nothing compared to the loss of his parent's, he had come to terms of their passing through one night of heavy drinking and then waking up with a killer migraine and the sunlight pouring into his burning, aching eyes. He liked to believe that was his mother's spiritual way of somehow scolding him.
His siblings were a total different story altogether, though.
Benjamin slipped off his running shoes by the welcoming mat on the front porch, mainly because mud had dried into clinging dirt into the soles from the forest trails he generally took. Opening the wooden oak door, he took the stairs two at a time until he reached the top. Before his parent's deaths, his job as a student teacher and secretary at the local high school had been supplying an average apartment downtown in Mystic Falls. Knowing that Jenna (who he saw more as a cousin even though she was technically his Aunt) would have a spastic attack from the sudden parenthood thrusted upon her, he had taken the liberty on moving into his parent's bedroom. It was an ease after living paycheck to paycheck, at least, even if he felt like he was stealing something every time he entered the room.
There was a moment in the past that Jeremy and he had shared bunk beds, but Jeremy had practically frothed at the mouth at even the mention of sharing a bedroom with his "idiotic" older brother again.
Benjamin had been offended, honestly – so what if he snored? "Real men snore," he had previously told his fourteen-year-old brother. Of course, Elena had to be the one to completely ruin the statement by clarifying matter-of-factly that, "Real bears snore," but he had swiftly made her regret speaking at all by chasing her around the house threatening to tickle her until she passed out. She had won that race, curse her five-foot-seven frame in contrast to his six-foot-one.
Hopping into the adjoining bathroom to his parent's master bedroom, Benjamin stripped down and cleansed himself free of any grime, sweat, or dirt. He thoroughly brushed his teeth and did a quick trim work of the chiseled facial hair around his chin and cheekbones. Even though his hair was almost growing medium length, the brunette strands beginning to curl around his ears, he simply ran a hand through the damp tresses to brush them back off of his forehead.
Technically, this was his first day as an official teacher at Mystic Fall's High School, but he wasn't going to abruptly turn professional and uptight because of his new credentials. Benjamin dressed into the usual clothing he was comfortable in, which consisted of dark wash jeans, a long-sleeved black Henley that he pushed up to his elbows, and a pair of worn brown combat boots. Satisfied, he gathered his leather messenger bag, jamming his lesson plan folder and laptop into the case before swinging it over his right shoulder.
He heard the shower running in the adjoining bathroom of Elena and Jeremey's bedrooms, so he decided that he wouldn't rudely wake them up this time. He couldn't deny the satisfaction by jumping childishly up and down on a mattress, or simply lying flat onto them until they decided that breathing was better than sleep. Chuckling to himself, Benjamin glided down the bannister of the stairs, a skip in his step as he began making a pot of coffee in the kitchen.
The kitchen was possibly his favorite place in the Gilbert Household. Not just because of food, though. It was gray and black granite countertops with light wooden cabinets and a white décor on the walls. It was homey, an ambience that anyone could only dream to feel when walking into their kitchen. But not only the interior, because as he gazed over at the metal cooktop stove, he could imagine mom standing there, making the traditional Sunday strawberry pancakes with dad poised behind her, arms around her waist, chin resting on the top of her shoulder as they spoke in hushed, loving whispers.
"Oh, you're up, thank God," a voice shattered his haunting thoughts. Benjamin glanced over at the new arrival in the kitchenette, and was pleased to see his mother's sister standing at the threshold of the room. She was adorned in a late summer attire, a light Easter blue tank top and a thin flower-printed jacket throw over and a regular pair of straight blue jeans. Her hair had been thrown into a hasty up-do, and Benjamin could not help but smile widely at her already seemingly frazzled appearance. "I was about to completely break down into a panic attack."
"You've been here all summer, Jenna," Benjamin poured himself a cup of coffee into his large travel mug. "There's not much to know about these moving, emotional forenoons. Just overall laziness, death-worthy morning breath, and dragging Jeremy out of bed by his hair."
She swept a hand through her blonde bangs, only to futilely to have it flounce back into the vision of here right eye. "Doesn't matter – what matters is the fact that this is a disastrous catastrophe. Shouldn't they be leaving for school right now – shouldn't you be leaving before them?" she laughed, nervously. "First day as the teacher everyone is going to hate, might as well be late – is that a slogan you made or something?"
Benjamin curled his nose. "I take high offense to that insult. And no, my slogan was, 'Party defines tardy, attention defines redemption'," he shrugged indifferently, chuckling into the rim of his cup. "I think I like yours better, though – it's funnier."
Jenna huffed with annoyance, "You're getting a kick out of this, aren't you?"
"More than you know."
Benjamin was starting on his second cup of plain black coffee just as his little sister entered the room. He'd always been on edge with her since the day she had been released from the hospital. His parent's deaths had been mainly because of the fact they had drove to pick up Elena after she had went to a bonfire with her friends, and had drove off of Wickery Bridge on that ride back home. He had never blamed her for the occurrence, but at first she had sunk herself into a very dark place, fully taking the blame and shame and guilt all on her shoulders.
Elena was only seventeen year's old, though, so she would be the fault and the faultless without him saying or not saying anything. That's just how teenagers are, because he certainly knows from experience. Elena truthfully looked a lot similar to him in appearance. Tanned olive skin, dark hair, and doe brown eyes. Those were most definitely Gilbert traits that had been passed down through the ancestry line for a long period of time.
She came in, even though he saw the sorrow lingering somewhere behind her eyes, and she smiled genuinely at him. It was an overall charming surprise. "Good morning, sweetheart," he offered her, gesturing to the coffee pot as if it was a king on a mighty throne. "Sweetheart" was the affectionate nickname he had begun calling her since she had turned eight, and he thirteen. It had stuck quickly, and even though she sometimes whined, he knew she secretly found it brotherly enduring.
"Benny," she greeted. "Go for a run this morning?"
"Since I turned fifteen," he answered with a grin as she poured herself a cup of steaming hot coffee.
Jenna, in the meantime, was frantically deciding on what breakfast foods she could actually conjure without burning down the kitchen in the process. "Toast," she exclaimed like it was easy. "I can make toast."
"It's all about the coffee, Aunt Jenna," Elena said, placing the pot back into its slot.
"Is there coffee?" Jeremy had finally made his dramatic entrance of questioning the caffeine resources. Wearing all dark clothing, the fourteen-year-old could never have gotten anymore stereotypical.
"Depends. Are you making me late for school?" Benjamin shot him a look, and Jeremy returned it tenfold. The teacher shrugged casually after a moment of silent staring. "Certainly, but beware, if there isn't enough for me to take on the run, I'll drop your ass."
"You say that like you could," Jeremy's lips crept up into an almost smile.
"Don't tempt me, Jer."
Jenna walked around the center island to the kitchen table. "Your first day of school and I'm totally unprepared," she scowled, and Benjamin chuckle as she seemed to be scolding herself. She was digging, riffling through her purse and through her disheveled wallet. "Lunch money –"
"Jenna, no." Benjamin held up a hand to her shoulder as she began to stalk to the two high school students. "I told you their expenses at school would be covered by me. Groceries by me. Football games and extracurricular activities by me. Anything else, is yours."
"And I told you I didn't agree with that! I am flipping a damn lid here," she grumbled. "I want to help, that's what I'm here for!"
"You are helping," he folded her hand around the two twenties. "By saving these for a future lunch with a hot date."
She shot him a warning glare. "Are you expecting me to be lonely forever or something?" there was an edge in her voice that dare him to speak, and she knew he couldn't resist the challenge either.
Benjamin considered mockingly, ". . . Well, at this rate –"Before he could finish he was socked in the shoulder, and despite Jenna's shorter eight-inch difference with him, the woman could pack a mean punch. "Ow, dammit," he rubbed at his bicep. "Okay, okay," Benjamin yanked out his wallet and produced two twenty dollar bills to deliver to his younger siblings.
Jeremy took his without a word of gratefulness, but Benjamin didn't comment on it, the boy was practically drowning in his own coffee. Elena held a mug between her hands, blowing on the scalding liquid. She shook her head at her older brother. "I'm good," she said. He held it out for longer between his middle and index finger and she sent him a patronizing frown. "Benny, I'm good. I don't even like the lunchroom food–"
"And I don't care," he shook it suggestively in his hand. "I'm not letting you run around with no money on you. Just in case, take it so I don't feel bad about you starving on the side of a street or something."
Elena released an exasperated sigh, retrieving the money and shoving it into her front pocket. Benjamin grinned victoriously, but then his cellphone in his back pocket began vibrating. He flipped it open and pressed send. "Hello?" he questioned. He had a feeling he knew who it was, so he swiftly began refilling his cup of coffee and grabbing his keys off of the kitchen table simultaneously.
"I suggest you hightail it here," the new secretary, Ms. Clarke, announced. He was silently grateful for the warning so he could avoid the wrath of the prestigious and self-righteous Principal Williams.
"I'm on my way," he flipped his phone shut, hustling the device into a side-pocket on his bag. "I'm out, guys! You both have a reasonable, safe way to school?" he doubted the word 'reasonable' was necessary, but he did not exactly feel reassured with some of Jeremy's questionable friendships.
"Yes!" Elena and Jeremy answered simultaneously.
Benjamin jogged out to his car, a dark gray '07 Infinity Sedan, and tossed his bag to the passenger seat and shoved his coffee into the cup holder before reversing out of the driveway Fast & Furious style. Mom would have never let me get away with that. Benjamin cranked up a mix of Metallica tapes and Bob Segar as he drove to the high school, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat and percussions of the music.
Pulling into the parking lot, Benjamin wordlessly observed the school before him, humming lightly to the song that was faint in his ears. He recalled the moment he had resolved to become a teacher. It had all been because of Mrs. White, his senior year Literature and English teacher. Benjamin, even though he had been engrossed enough into track, basketball, and football – he had always had an odd, peculiar passion for reading.
But of course, since under the eyes of his friends, reading had been like he couldn't understand basic sentence structure. Note the sarcasm there. After reading William's Shakespeare's Macbeth, he'd written his report on the interesting story and his middle-aged teacher, Mrs. White, had called him to stay after class one afternoon on a Tuesday. She hadn't cornered him, or interrogated him, but it was as if she had been knowing. She just knew.
And so Mrs. White had allowed him to borrow books from her under her own recommendation, and so he had spent countless of nights staying up late at night engrossed into the words on the pages. Some part of him had fallen in love with the idea of books. Of reading something from someone else's creative imagination, their thoughts, and their thinking process all swirled together to form into a well-plotted story.
Mystic Fall's High School, as he leaned against the door to his car and peered at it, brought back good and bad memories. It was a colossal three-story building, rows of glass windows gleaming against the morning sunrays that reflected the color of molten gold into his eyes. The colors of the cemented bricks were slate gray and maroon red, the shade of red being the high school color, also known as the infamous Timberwolves.
Plucking out his coffee and locking up the car, Benjamin adjusted his bag and entered the lobby of the school, easily discovering the location of the office. He'd visited here over the summer to arrange his classroom the way he comfortably prepared, but he'd been a prior student as well, so the layout of the school had been unfortunately etched into his memory a long time ago.
After gathering his mail out of the teacher's lounge, Benjamin riffled through the papers as he ventured to his class, noticing the trickle of students beginning to surface from their cars and early bus rides. He threw his bag on his desk in his classroom and turned on his heel to write his name on the board behind him with a stick of chalk.
Mr. Gilbert, Benjamin stared at the neat cursive of his calligraphy. Ironically, it had always been his dad in the family to obtain the neat handwriting, but mainly because the man had amazing drawing skills. Benjamin and Jeremy had inherited the ability to easily sketch, so their handwriting was almost a replica of their father's. He felt repulsed if people called him "Mr. Gilbert", that was his father's title, not his.
Removing it with a flick of the eraser, he straightforwardly wrote: Benjamin Gilbert. Creating a face of content, the teacher dropped himself into the rolling chair and propped up his feet at the edge of the desk. He grabbed his copy of the collection of all of Edgar Allen Poe tales and balanced it up on his lap. A book and a cup of sweltering coffee – he almost could have waited for school to start.
After flipping through thirty more pages, the bell rang for school to officially commence. He didn't stray from his position as juniors began mingling into the classroom. "Take a seat," he commented casually, overturning a page.
"Ah, Benny!" there was a shrill squeal. Before he could cast a raised eyebrow toward the sound of his name being more or less screamed, someone nearly made him spill his coffee as they practically barreled into him. The heavy scent of strawberry vanilla attacked his senses as honey blond hair momentarily obscured his vision. It was none other than Caroline Forbes, fashion police extraordinaire, and had been one of Elena's best friends since they'd been diving into coloring books and waving plastic pink wands at one another.
"Caroline!" he blinked as she straightened herself, fidgeting with uncontained excitement. "That was a welcoming," he grinned at her. "How are you?" he marked the page with a bookmark and placed it on his desk. "Enjoy your summer?"
"How am I? How are you? Are you okay – Elena looks a little pasty, y'know, she must have not gotten outside a lot –"her blue eyes dimmed as she realized her words. "Oh, I'm sorry –"she laughed nervously. "Who am I to talk right, I'm like as white as a ghost! My skin like, never tans –"
"You're rambling," he stated flatly. He enjoyed Caroline's company in general, she was a free-spirited girl, but if anything she was sometimes (most of the time) a very overzealous person. It made it difficult to stay in her presence after ten minutes, and it was a wonder how Bonnie and Elena hadn't been trialed for attempted murder in strangling her.
"Of course I am," she chirped, bemusing. "I'm sorry, Benny."
"It's alright. And to answer your question, we've moved on – and you need to move on, to a seat," he smirked at her, waggling his fingers at the few empty desks scattered about the room.
"Ooh, the authoritative voice. Kinky and hot. I like it." Caroline was a major flirt, but she was as harmless as a kitten. She gracefully took her seat near the middle of the classroom, already mid-conversation with another peer.
Benjamin took a swift swig of his now lukewarm coffee, clapping his hands against the thighs of his jeans as he stood agilely to his feet. "Okay, so I know most of you know me from the student teacher job I had here last year, but to those new and to those who don't actually know me, I am Benjamin Christopher Gilbert, and I've decided that I don't really care on formalities, so you may call me anything but Mr. Gilbert, or my middle name." He leaned against his desk from the front, arms crossed.
"Um, this is . . . literature?" a boy questioned doubtfully, peering through some papers to scan his schedule.
"Literature and English, but I mostly focus on Literature," Benjamin clarified. "When reading the stories and books I will have you complete, this semester will go buy extremely fast. We will read Macbeth, Hamlet, and Lord of the Flies." Hearing the protestant grumbles across the room, he smiled coyly. "But I decided to do something different from my original plans. Instead of making you do a ten-page report on every book that I listed, like I had to do in college, I will be asking you a series of questions each Friday, on each individual book. I will keep a tally on who makes the most corrects answers when we are officially done with Lord of the Flies."
"And what?" Sarah Wade already seemed miserable in her seat.
"And the person with the most correct answers will be choosing the last book of the semester. I apologize in advance, but there will be no smut-littered books in my classroom so allow that thought to flee immediately." There was a brief pause of laughter as the students all grinned perversely. "To be frank, the genres will be anything but that. I will have to swiftly proof read, of course, but I believe this will be a fun and enlightening semester for all of us, agree?"
They really had no choice but to frighteningly nod in acceptance to their fate.
September 7, 2009 – Mystic Falls, Virginia – Mystic Fall's High School – 11:56 A.M.
"I already know I'm the most hated teacher throughout the history of Mystic Falls," Benjamin released a guffaw of laughter as he hopped up onto a table that Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline were all perched on. He bit into the apple he had stolen from the lunchroom, the sunlight of the evening peeking through the breezy shade of the tree above them. "I think I made a kid cry second block."
"That's pathetic," Bonnie chuckled. She was an African-American female, with beautiful mocha-colored skin and olive eyes, her smile held a kindness and selfishness that he'd familiarized himself with a long time ago. "I'm excited to read Hamlet."
"A phenomenal tragedy," Benjamin commented, closing his mouth to chew on the fruit. He swallowed. "What other classes do you guys have?"
"History with Mr. Tanner," Caroline complained with a dispirited groan. "He makes me want to slit my wrists when he lectures."
"He's a fine teacher, Caroline, show some respect," Benjamin defended. William personally was a good guy if you overlooked the macho personality. He was a football coach, though, the tough guy, I-know-better-then-you charade was meant to be a key-player for a typecast high school.
Elena was smiling. "Says the teacher," she snickered amusingly.
"I'm a damn good teacher, sweetheart. Don't forget it."
"However could we?" Caroline murmured sarcastically.
"Would you like me to spit apple seeds at you?"
"What – ew! No!"
"Then shut up before I give you detention, Ms. Forbes," he winked at her to make his words every bit of playful as they were meant to be.
Caroline slyly spoke, interpreting the wink to something it plainly was not, "Well, if that's what it takes to get an empty classroom with you, Benny," she practically purred suggestively, emphasizing his nickname.
Elena was affronted. "Caroline! That's my brother!"
"Yeah, your fine-ass brother!"
"Illegal brother," Benjamin added casually. They had all grown used to Caroline's small – "teensy tiny", she says – crush on him since he'd turned seventeen, and her twelve. It had always involved a banter between them both, but Caroline had never dared actually gone through to any of the things she had ever advocated to him. Because despite her golden beauty, Caroline was possible the most insecure person he even knew, popular to contrary belief amongst town gossip.
She harrumphed. "Fine, you spoilsports."
Benjamin threw away the apple core into the trash bin adjacent to the table, standing back to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. "I should go get ready for my fourth block," he sent Elena and Bonnie a short look. "You two get a tardy and I'll give you extra homework on purpose." With a chuckle he strolled away from the trio, nodding to a few other students including Coach Tanner before he entered the virtually deserted hallways.
After buying a bottle of water out of the teacher's lounge, he returned to his classroom, and surprisingly enough, there was someone already sitting at a desk in the back of the room. "Not a cafeteria food type of guy?" he questioned the student, placing the bottle of water on the desk.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" the boy asked with a small smile. Benjamin studied him, taking in his square jaw and gelled brown hair and cool green eyes.
"I guess it could be," Benjamin spun around the rolling chair once before returning to his favorite position, with his feet propped up on the desk. The Edgar Allen Poe book was already resting against his legs. He gestured to the row of shelves to the left of the room, nearest to the boy, who had been eyeing them with inquisitiveness. "Feel free to browse . . . Mr. Salvatore, is it?"
Stefan seemed wary, but nodded in affirmative. "How did you know?"
Benjamin flipped open the book. "A student that I didn't recognize, hiding out in the back of the classroom, and seems interested in 1500 to 1800 literature?" a chuckle rumbled his chest. "Obviously from not around here."
"Renaissance literature is the best, in my opinion."
"A William Shakespeare fan, then?"
"A Midsummer Night's Dream, to be exact," Stefan nodded.
Benjamin felt oddly pleased to share a common enjoyment of author with someone. "Ah, not a book by him people normally list," he said. "Interesting. Perhaps you will breeze by in this class, Mr. Salvatore." A tranquil silence fell upon the dup as the literature teacher's phone began buzzing in the pocket he had previously secured it in his bag. Leaning over the armrest of his chair, he extracted the device and flipped it open, pressing it against his ear. "How's the presentation going, Jenna?"
"Just got done getting bullied by my thesis advisor," she clearly pouted through the phone, sounding out of breath as if she was walking a little too fast for her legs. "Think you can handle dinner tonight? I was going to grab some takeout, but knowing you –"
"Yeah," Benjamin wrinkled his nose at the thought of the greasy Thai food Jenna generally brought home, and had permanently remained an aroma in the cushions on the seats of her car. "I'll scrounge up something together, I'm sure. As far as I know Jeremey, Elena, and her friends are doing the traditional dinner at the Grill later this evening. We'll probably be eating alone."
Jenna scoffed. "More for me and you, then."
"I like the way you think," Benjamin snorted. The bell signaling fourth block rang blaringly. He could hear the skidding of sneakers and chitter-chatter as hordes of students began crowding the locker-lined corridors. "Duty calls. I'll see you later, Jenna. Good luck on the presentation. You'll do great."
"Says the guy who graduated with a masters after only four years." Jenna hung up on that note. He knew she had meant it in a joking manner. Benjamin thrusted his phone into his pocket, pulling up his roll-call as people began trudging into his class.
He laced his hands behind his head, grinning. "So, welcome to my humble abode . . ."
September 7, 2009 – Mystic Falls, Virginia – Gilbert Household – 5:39 P.M.
Benjamin disregarded his sister's hiss of discomfort and pain as he dabbed the cut on the calf of her leg, the peroxide and alcohol leaving a foul smell in the air. "I told you to stop going to the cemetery by yourself," he told her sternly, placing an overly-large Band-Aid over the small, shallow injury.
"I appreciate the concern, Benny, but I think I have the right to go visit mom and dad's grave if I want to," Elena retorted. She pressed her hand over the Band-Aid to smooth down the creases. "It was an accident, the fog made me trip."
"The fog?" Benjamin narrowed his eyes. "In the middle of a sunny day at the cemetery, really, sweetheart? If you're going to make up an excuse about where you actually were, make it believable," he shook his head in disappointment as he gathered up the wrappers and First-Aid kit supplies.
"I'm not lying!" Elena expressed an offended scowl. "Why would I lie, Benjamin? I'd go there every evening after lunch during the summer, so now I'm going after school!" she yanked her pants leg back down aggressively.
"Either way, take someone with you if you go anywhere," Benjamin grabbed her arm gently as she meant to steer herself toward the stairs. "There are worse things out there then what we've been through, sweetheart."
"I know," she said firmly, half-smiling gingerly. "I'm going to go get ready," she raced up the stairs before he could respond back with an answer.
Rolling his eyes, Benjamin returned to the kitchen after he heard her bedroom door close shut. He took the barstool he had previously occupied, half a glass of bourbon placed on the granite countertop, next to a scatter of files and manila folders.
He, uncharacteristically, did not mind the silence that gifted him with a practically, and soon-to-be empty house. Benjamin would usually enjoy the company of someone instead of his own thoughts any time of day. But he truthfully did not want Elena, Jer, or Jenna to stroll up to peek over his shoulder to see what he was intently reading.
The two folders held the names of two people. Darren Malloy and Brooke Fenton. Two young adults in their early twenties, twenty-four and twenty-two respectively, had been mauled savagely by an "animal" just the previous night. Benjamin clasped his glass of liquor, taking a quick drink to relish in the burn that travelled down his throat. The folder had been given to him by Principal Williams on his way outside to his car, the woman's serious gaze connecting momentarily with his own.
The crisp, pale yellow binder held the important information that Benjamin had been familiar leafing through since he'd turned eighteen. He remembered his eighteenth birthday like it was yesterday, how his parents had gotten up early that Saturday morning and had made his favorite breakfast food – French toast with strawberries, bananas, powdered sugar, and syrup. That night, they had ushered Benjamin into their bedroom, clicking the lock to the door to be certain of privacy.
He had originally thought they were going to give him a birthday present in secret, to not make his siblings of thirteen and ten jealous – but imagine his stark surprise when they had unleashed a horrifying secret.
He remembered his mother's words, "Listen, honey. You know the Council that your father and I are on? We don't just sit around talking like you think we do . . . we – we protect the town. From vampires – and we want you to join us."
At first he had laughed at them, at their pathetically acted joke. They hadn't been acting. Grayson, his dad, had dived into a two centuries-old tale that spoke of the founding of Mystic Fall's, and the vampires that had migrated here as well as the imminent church fire. For a minute he had believed that his parents were nine levels of crazy, but their insistent, solemn expressions proclaimed very differently.
For the sake of his own humanity at the bizarre knowledge, he had joined the Mystic Fall's Council.
Reviewing the police and medical reports, Benjamin practically shoved the dreaded files away from him and refilled his glass. Running a hand through his hair, he didn't glanced up just as the front door unlocked by a set of keys, and Jenna's groan of relief filling failed to reach his ears. Swirling the bourbon around in the bottom of his cup, he kept his eyes forward, gazing distantly and lost into his own thoughts.
"Benny, you cooked something, right?" Jenna unloaded her bag and school-related work on the kitchen table, glancing over his shoulder.
Benjamin blinked and immediately flipped the manila folders over onto their backs, wordless blank surfaces greeting her inquisitive eyes. His heartbeat roared loudly in his ears, and he could not have remembered the last time he had been so rigorously swallowed by his chaotic musings to not notice her presence. This was the exact reason to why he, more often than not, preferred company.
Jenna raised an arched eyebrow at his flinching movements. "Geez, Bruce Lee, chill out." She was about to add another comment to the strange behavior, but she saw the uneaten wrapped plate on the counter on the other side of him, across the kitchen near the stove. "I think yes," she approached the food.
"Uh, sorry," Benjamin scratched at his neck nervously. "Student/teacher confidentiality, you know the drill, Jen."
She hopped up on the counter, facing him, the food in her lap as she took a forkful of mash potatoes to shove into her mouth. She hadn't even bothered to heat it up, even though it was tepid. "No, I actually don't. One time my Pre-Cal teacher used a presentation I made to just show the class how not to do it."
He snorted with entertainment. "I wasn't really into mathematics either, on my junior year I completely walked out of my Algebra 2 class when we started on imaginary numbers."
"One time I cried during a test, sobbing and snot all over my paper. I got sent to the principal's office."
Benjamin raised his hands in submission. "You win the math round, Jenna." She laughed and nodded along with him as she scarfed down the remaining food. He pressed his forehead into his folded hands and squeezed his eyes shut in exhaustion. "I'm fixing to go take a shower and fall into an early, dreamless sleep."
"Elena and Jeremy?"
"Jeremy's already at the Grill doing who knows what, Elena's upstairs applying makeup for a boy, I just know it." And truthfully, even though the thought was horrendously cliché, that did not sit well with him at all. He pictured Elena, his sweet little sister, and did not want a hormonal male anywhere near her within a ten-mile radius.
Spying the pensive scowl on his face, Jenna laughed loudly. "I love the protective big brother routine, Benny. Why does Elena get to be quarantined and I'm the one getting shoved out of the front door with condoms in my purse?" there was an accusing note in her tone.
Benjamin roared with guffaws. "Who said I put those there?"
Jenna flushed, horrified at the turn of conversation that she had just trapped herself in. Fidgeting, she pointed an implicating finger at him. "I hate you, you know that? You put those there, because you knew that I have a habit of letting anyone go through my bag to find a pen so I could write a check!"
"What?" his face hurt from grinning. "You let that guy, Bob or whatever, go through your purse?" he threw up a gesturing hand. "What if he stole from you? Or found the wallet of pictures of you when you were in sophomore year? That would have been a definite deal-breaker."
"Benny!" she glared at his teasing. "His name was Rob, and you have no room to talk, Brace-Face!"
He revealed his teeth, the rows straight and white. "And look how I turned out, you haven't changed."
"I know where you sleep!" she hissed.
"I know I have a lock on my door!"
Jenna huffed and hopped off the counter, and he swiveled in his barstool to watch her. Just as she passed him in a flurry of Easter blue and a messy blond bun, he slid off of his cushioned seat and snatched her purse over her shoulder before she could fully reach it. She whirled around with nothing short of vengeance. "Benjamin Christopher, I am warning you," she spoke lowly with caution. Jenna's dark hazel eyes had lit up with exuberant, and there was fortunately no anger in her open facial expressions.
"Duly noted," he responded. He dug into her purse and yanked out the foiled packets with a disbelieving laugh. "You kept them?!" he almost collapsed onto the wooden floor with bellows of chortles. He had edged himself around the kitchen table, she mimicking his footsteps with narrowed eyes.
"You ass!" running forward, she shoved his shoulder and stole back the condoms, heaving them into her bag just as Elena reentered the scene. The seventeen-year-old grabbed her jacket to toss over the black tank top she wore, cellphone in the other hand. "Leaving?" she questioned, still red from embarrassment.
"I'm meeting Bonnie at the Grill," Elena shot a questioning look at her brother, and he shrugged innocently.
"Okay, have fun," Jenna, the previous ordeal now wiped clean (for the time being), made a trying expression. "Wait, I got this. Don't stay out late," she placed her hands on her hips, "It's a school night."
"Let me give this a go," Benjamin took a step, pointing a threatening finger at Elena. "If it's even a second late after nine-thirty, I'm driving down there, and when I find you or your brother – and I will, you will wish that you were somewhere at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, drowning miserably."
Elena laughed at them, shaking her head. "Well done, the both of you. I feel scolded," she whirled around to exit, but halted halfway to the door. "Oh! Benny, I need you to unlock your car. I left my keys in there the other day when you came and got me from the car place or whatever."
"The car place? The mechanics, Elena."
She frowned resentfully. "I need my keys," she stated levelly.
Chuckling to himself, Benjamin nodded at her request. He retrieved his keys off of the countertop adjacent to the manila folders he really needed to put away, throwing them up and catching them with his left hand as he walked to the door, Elena following close behind him. Opening the door, he had expected the glow of the front porch light and the empty expanse of nighttime across their yard – not the figure of a person.
"Mr. Salvatore?" Benjamin frowned, confused.
"Stefan!" Elena was equally startled, but much to his bemusement, it was a pleased shock on her part. Before she could step forward and fully make conversation, his body blocked her path and stared down the small height difference he had on the boy. "Benjamin," she hissed warningly, jabbing her elbow into his back.
Clearly seeing the situation, Stefan placed up his hands and backed down a few steps. "Um – it's really not like that, Mr. – uh, Benjamin. Elena fell today, at the cemetery, and I saw it and came to ask if she was okay, that's all."
"She's perfectly fine –"
"I can answer for myself!" he was finally propelled enough in the back to force him forward a few feet. Elena glowered at her brother, pointing at his car. "My keys, now, please."
"Yes, my Lady," he smiled tauntingly. Collecting her keys, he placed them in her hands as Stefan and she paused from conversation. Eyeing the green journal in her hands that he knew she must have dropped at the cemetery, he clapped Stefan on the shoulder, and it wasn't a threat. He actually did not mind the kid. "Thanks for returning Deepest Darkest Secrets back to her," Benjamin said. "She would have been wandering aimlessly for days. I named it that after finding it in the living room one day, and I laid a finger on the cover and suddenly it was as if I had extracted her soul from her body."
Elena returned from placing it inside the house. "That's not true! You opened it!"
"Not purposely," he winked at Stefan before swiveling to Elena to say parting words. "I wasn't kidding about the Atlantic Ocean, sweetheart. I'll drown you myself." He kissed her temple, messing up her hair as he stepped back over the threshold into the house. "Hey, no funny business!" he shouted to the duo for the sake of humiliation as he slammed the front door shut.
Hearing Jenna humming from inside the laundry room in the back, Benjamin withdrew into his bedroom to jump into a quick shower. After soaking for ten minutes, his pajamas consisted of gray basketball shorts and a plain white tee-shirt. He annoying raked his damp hair back as he travelled back downstairs to reclaim the files of the victims. He promptly stuffed them into his messenger bag and called to Jenna that he was he was going to his bedroom to stay for the remaining night.
Plopping down on the Queen-sized mattress in the middle of his room, Benjamin threw an arm across his eyes and simply relaxed.
June 24, 2005 – Dunham Lake, Virginia – Gilbert Family Lake House – 12:04 P.M.
"Dad, damn it!" the cut stung viciously across his bicep, where his father had nicked him with the jaggedly sharp stake. Grayson spun the homemade knife expertly in his right hand, but instead of an exhilarating grin, his lips were pressed into a grim line.
"Stop tensing, Benjamin," he ordered.
"You're swinging a knife at me, man! What the hell am I supposed to do, dance away?!" he glared in annoyance at the object of his pain, there were numerous slashes across his arms now. Apparently, this was how you quickly learned how to fight. "Why can't we do hand-to-hand? I have a damn black-belt."
"So do I, son," Grayson rolled his eyes. "Vampires can move faster than you can think, and if they deflect your offensive and counter, you're done."
"Super strength. Super hearing. Super vision. Super fan-fucking-tastic."
Grayson bent into a defensive position, gesturing to the stake that Benjamin had dropped on the ground. They were at the forest ground by the Lake House, where dad had convinced mom to allow him to train their eldest son. "Don't swear so much, it's unbecoming. You're supposed to be an example to Lena and Jer."
Before Benjamin could retort sarcastically, Grayson leaped forward. Skidding his left foot back and crouching, the eighteen-year-old deflected his father's swinging arm with his forearm, jarring the limb from the physical pressure. Spittle flew passed his lips as a knee was jammed into his abdomen, effectively stealing oxygen from his lungs. With an elbow to the back Benjamin collapsed on the ground, a discomforting poke in his back where his heart was located alerted him his father had just killed him if he had been a vampire. He practically spat out dirt and grass as he panted into the earth.
He was becoming quickly angered, though.
"You're dead. Again," said Grayson.
Scrambling to his feet, he pointed a shaking finger at his father, infuriated adrenaline coursing through his veins. "This is bullshit, dad! I'm supposed to be learning how to kill a vampire, not being your training dummy to toss around!"
His father received his son's withering glare with a composed face. The he smiled. "Good. You feel that anger? Harness it. Vampires are evil creatures, and if they know you know about what they truly are, they will not hesitate to kill you, Benjamin."
Lip curling, he hissed, "You don't understand. All of this is worthless, if they are as you say, they're too powerful."
Grayson shook his head, "Vampires have weaknesses, because everything has a weakness."
Sarcastically, "Is that your philosophy?"
"It's saved my life before." Grayson signaled with a motion of his arm. "Come at me," he commanded sternly.
Benjamin heaved a breath in preparation. He charged quickly, silently glad that he had gained his father's lean, lithe frame. It made it easier for him to move, and to stay light on his feet. Shoving his father's arm with the palm of his hand, Benjamin swiped with his stake in a wide horizontal arc. Grayson leaned back a hair's breath away to avoid the injury, but the eighteen-year-old was expecting just that.
Foot hooking around his father's ankle, Benjamin was almost giddy as he observed his father fall to the ground. He lunged forward and assembled to indicate the kill, but a foot was suddenly placed against his chest.
Flying backwards a few feet, he landed on his back with an audible thump. "Oomph!" he gagged on his breath, clutching at his chest for a few short seconds. "Damn," he gasped from the ache. He had been so caught-up in the almost victory that had forgot to actually finish the victory.
Suddenly, the sun was blocked from his squinting eyes. Grayson's dark gaze shined down on his son with pride and a sense of achievement. He extended out an acknowledging hand. "Arrogance is the downfall of many men, Benny – but good job," he grinned widely, approvingly.
With a surprisingly light heart on the whole fighting idea, Benjamin took the offered hand.
September 8, 2009 – Mystic Falls, Virginia – Mystic Fall's High School – 2:31 P.M.
"What do you think the ghost represents in the story?" Benjamin was strolling through the aisles of desks, nudging student's bags and backpacks underneath their desk if they were in the way of his footpath. A copy of Hamlet was in his left hand, his index finger being utilized as a bookmark. "Symbolism is a key aspect in old literature, and so is metaphors – is there any particular book that stands out on those two subjects?"
No one dared to raise their hand, of course. "Miss Donovan, any idea?" Benjamin questioned the girl, raising an eyebrow with calculation.
"The bible, perhaps," she answered with uncertainty.
"Yes! Revelation, the last book in the bible, is so heavily-riddled with symbolism and metaphors that it is possible that no one has fully come to an understanding on a clear interpretation –"Before he could order them to flip back to their page number, a rapid knock on his classroom door caused them to all gaze notably at the entrance.
Form his side-view of the rectangular-shaped window planted on the left of the doorway, it was Sherriff Forbes.
Revolving back to the prying senior class, Benjamin smiled pleasantly. "Alright, you all are going to read the next page while I'm outside, and when I come back, I expect all of you to be able to easily write a summary – if you decide 'to hell with it', then you'll get deducted enough points worth a hundred-point grade." Snatching the files from his messenger bag, he slipped outside of his classroom and was met with an older version of Caroline.
Well, they were slightly different. Elizabeth Forbes had short hair, but the same shade as light honey blond. Her eyes were dark, while Caroline had inherited her father's dark cobalt color. Liz accepted the files with a grateful but rather solemn frown. "Did you review them?" she asked him earnestly.
"As much as I could. It's amazing to me that people actually believe that to be an animal attack, Liz. Their car was parked in the middle of a main road, it's impossible for an animal to drag them out of their vehicle and then aim to specifically rip into the main artery in their necks."
Liz nodded with discomfort. "I agree, we're treading a thin line. There's going to be a Council meeting this Friday, if the problem occurs again." She seemed as if she was going to stroll away, but halted herself before he could think to return to his classroom. "I know it's none of my business, but – um, how are you?" she asked lowly, glancing around as if knowing she shouldn't be inquiring such a question. Her fingers were clenching pale around the manila folders.
Benjamin's face was carved stone, but it softened in the slightest. "I'm fine," he cut off her opening mouth. "I know. The most fake lie that has learned to soar across this earth, I get it. But the truth is, my brother and sister have been dealing with it far worse than I."
Liz swallowed visibly. "But they're dealing, aren't they? Are you?"
He began to grit his teeth together, "I'm fine, Liz." Even though every night since they'd passed away he'd been haunted by happy memories of when they were actually alive and happily married and making those strawberry pancakes. He shook off the cold feeling seeping into his spine, causing him to forcefully shiver.
"You didn't even attend the funeral, Benjamin."
Something within him writhed in agony as she mentioned that last detail. Eyes darkening to a near shade of black, he breathed through his nose, his expression inscrutable. "You're right, it is none of your business, Sheriff Forbes." He nodded his head a fraction before he ripped open his classroom door and quickly shut it behind him. Liz was a kind soul, and he liked her as a person, but his business was his business – he didn't owe anyone an answer unless he allowed it so.
He did not realize he was simply leaning against the door wordlessly until someone hesitantly called out his name. "Benjamin?" Vicki Donovan inquired slowly, brown eyes shimmering with concern and curiosity.
"The summary," he demanded coldly to the class. "Write it, now. You have ten minutes." Benjamin collapsed into his chair, allowing his head to hang back as he glared at the white ceiling tiles. His father had taught him everything he knew about vampires, weaknesses and strengths, the power of compulsion, the inability to reach past someone's doorway unless invited inside. But sometimes he regretted knowing because the Council was intrusive on every members' private life, and that had never sat well with him.
After comprehending that it was close to the end of school, he called them to a stop. "Place those wherever in your binder, we'll continue this tomorrow," he kicked his feet on the edge of his desk, listening as everyone took that as a cue to begin chatting amongst peers. Benjamin waved at them in dismissal when the bell began resounding unwelcomely. He got up himself, shoving his laptop in his bag as he slung it over his shoulder, gathering up his keys and empty travel mug.
"Benny!"
He was halfway to his car when he heard the call of his name. He tilted his head to the side to see Elena jogging up to him, long straight brown hair flowing behind her. "About tonight –"she was cut off by him, her wide eyes merely widening when he jerked open his driver's door and shoved his bag inside.
"Do you really, really have to ask me that, sweetheart?" Benjamin's bad mood revealed in his scowl.
Elena was affronted, but then determined. "Yes. Yes, I do. You're my legal guardian, and if you say no, then that's fine. But I got invited to the party –"
"By who? Stefan Salvatore?" he glared.
"Yes. I did. You have a problem with that?"
"No. I just remember the last time you went to a party with a boy, bad things happened." It wasn't until he had blurted it out then that his mind registered what he had spoken. Benjamin's eyes broadened at disbelief over himself, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the tear's glazing his little sister's eyes. "Oh God, Elena," it felt strange to even call her that. He reached for her limp hand. "Sweetheart, I'm –"
"– sorry? You're sorry?" she bit her bottom lip when it trembled, grief causing a grimace to wash over her face. "No, Benjamin, you're not. You meant it, you're upset about something and you're mind decided to speak freely for once." She ripped her arm away from his grasp, and began to walk away with a tremble in her hands, but he caught her shoulders gently and swiveled her to face him.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, wanting to wipe her tears away but halting from the action, knowing that would only make everything worse.
"You," she nearly spat in frustration. "You act like nothing happened. Nothing."
He winced, "That – That's not true."
"Yes it is. You blame me, like Jeremy," Elena choked down a subdued sob. "A-And it's okay, because I – I blame myself, Benny!" the sob broke free from her throat just as her elder brother crushed her to his chest, his arms draping her shoulders solidly. He clutched the back of her head, kissing her crown as she cried heavily into his shoulder. "I-I'm so sorry," she gasped.
"I would never," he murmured fiercely. "I would never blame you, sweetheart. Never." Benjamin closed his eyes and held her closely, breathing in deeply. It had been a massive slip-up that he truly did regret and did not mean, he could never fully place blame on his seventeen-year-old sister – he was just feeling absent. The lack of his parents was beginning to take a toll.
"How about you text Bonnie, sweetheart, and tell her I'm going to take you home. I know you want to remain strong in her view," he rubbed her back, talking into the side of her head. She nodded into his chest and he released her and carefully watched her circle the car to get into the passenger seat, persistently rubbing her cheeks a splotchy red to rid them of any evidence.
Benjamin got into the driver's side, closing his door and placing the key into the ignition. "You know I love you, right?" he asked her, starting the car and placing his seatbelt on as his eyes seared into the side of her head as she refused to face him. "You, Jeremy, and Jenna are what I have left."
A smile formed on her lips, but it failed to reach her eyes. He was infuriated at himself. "I know, I love you too, Benny," she whispered, tears once again futilely streaking from her eyes. She sniffed quietly, placing her temple against the window as the trees blurred underneath her watery vision.
Benjamin hated himself.
September 8, 2009 – Mystic Fall's, Virginia – Gilbert Household – 10:47 P.M.
Benjamin was breathing heavy. He jumped out of his car, leaving the door to the car wide open without any care. The police lights were causing a headache to start in the back of his head, the blue and red flares were giving the forest's trees an eerie landscape. He walked alongside the van to the Animal Control Unit and a police car, expression becoming panicked when he saw Vicki Donovan's wounded body being hauled into an ambulance.
"Matthew?" Benjamin asked with baited breath. "What happened here? Liz called me and said there'd been a – a, uh, an incident."
Matt looked dazed, unfocused as he stared distantly at his sister. He was Elena's ex-boyfriend, the stereotypical football player with short blond hair and blue eyes. Benjamin had remembered meeting the boy when Elena had begun dating him her freshmen year of high school, and he'd always been so fun to embarrass and torment because he wore his heart on his sleeve like any hormonal boy. "I – I don't know," his eyebrows furrowed. "They think an animal attack?"
Benjamin gripped the boy's shoulder. "Go with them to the hospital," he softly pushed him into the direction of the back of the ambulance. "Where's Elena and my brother?"
"The – uh, the pavilion over there."
Searching the small crowd, he felt his shoulder immediately relax with relief when he saw Elena a small walking distance, her hands shove into her leather jacket's pockets. Benjamin sprinted quickly to her, shaking his head as he reached the Christmas light decorated pavilion. "Liz called me. An animal attack. Scared the hell out of me." Even though he was frightened for far more reasons, this had not been an actual animal attack, but his sister did not need to know that.
"Yeah, me too. Jeremy's the one who found her."
Benjamin opened his mouth, but Bonnie had popped up. She smiled slightly at him, but it faltered. "Hey, we're going to the Mainline Coffee, wait for news." It was a silent invitation.
Elena propped open her mouth, glancing at Benjamin. He sent her a reassuring smile, and she knew what she needed to do. "I think us Gilbert's have had a far too long day," she half-smiled at her brother, then turned to her best friend. "I think we'll haul Jeremy home and call it a night."
"Excuse me." Benjamin departed the two girls to say a prompt goodbye. He walked a few steps before catching someone standing near the patrol cars. Scowling immediately, Benjamin stalked over and ripped the beer from Jeremey's hand, tossing it into the bushes beside them with a crack of glass.
"The hell?" Jeremy nearly shouted.
"No, what the fuck? That's the better-phrased question. There's police out here, and if they decide to arrest you for underage drinking, then I sure as hell won't stop them."
"Why should you even care?" Jeremy bit out. His dark taupe eyes were either bloodshot from drugs or unshed tears, but who knew with this boy.
"Me? Do you want me to make you a list?" Benjamin was livid. He propelled his brother's shoulder with a rough jerk, and Jeremy winced before glaring heatedly at his oldest sibling. "I do care about you, Jer – and so that's the exact reason why if you don't get your ass in my car, right now, I will drag you there."
Jeremy's nostrils flare with an argument on the rise. "You can't –"
"Go to my fucking car."
The fourteen year-old face held defiance and raging indignation as he practically stomped to Benjamin's car, kicking an empty bottle of littered beer as he went. The literature teacher pinched the bridge of his nose as he calmed his own chaotic emotions. Even though his kid brother was becoming a pain in his side, he probably could have handled that situation better. He heard someone gradually approaching with light footsteps, and turned to see Elena, who occupied a knowing expression. "Ready to go?" he asked, understanding that she had heard the previous conversation.
She nodded, and said the words he'd been thinking all day, "Mom and dad wouldn't have wanted this."
But they were also dead, so what exactly could they want anyways?
When they reached home, Jeremy slammed his door shut and stormed into the house. Benjamin felt remorse over the wrath he had rained down on his brother, and maybe he wanted to apologize, but he also knew that perhaps a dosage of brutality was what Jer really needed. It was never what he wanted, but that was a simple given.
Benjamin collapsed onto the couch, his knee bending off of the armrest and a pillow uncomfortably wedged into the side of his back. "Jenna, I hope you made a pot of coffee," he groaned. "It's been a long night."
"Liz called and asked about you," Jenna commented as she walked into the living room. She grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and flicked on the flat screen TV. "Why is she so worried – uh, no I mean, why is so much worried-er?"
An amused smile curved at the corner of his mouth. "That was so heartbreaking, I can't even dignify you with an answer." Benjamin gasped in pain as the remote abruptly flew into his gut. "Dammit, Jen!" he yelled.
"Get off your sorry ass and go to bed, you have an early day tomorrow."
Instead of usually retorting with a sarcastic answer, Benjamin took her advice. He fell into his bed without changing into any form of nightwear, a deep sigh breezing through his mouth as he sealed his eyes shut.
The vampire attacks, the innocent victims, his family issues, the Council's nagging and inquiring, his sister involving herself with Stefan Salvatore . . .
. . . Why did he feel it was only going to get worse?