Hello all! This is my first self-insert story, and I'm trying to create something realistic and interesting. I love constructive criticism so feel free to review! Mostly, this is a creative exercise for myself. Oh, and since this is a SI, the main character is going to be gay, but I don't anticipate any ships.

Chapter 1

The Awakening

A small green car is packed with her entire life inside, trudging down the interstate. The woman at the wheel has been exhaustedly driving for the last 9 hours, but she's so close! Taking the exit ramp, she's hurriedly taking the curves at twice the speed. Headlights come fast from around the next curve, and she has a split second to try braking. Pain, only pain. Then, nothing.

Eyes closed, I shiver. I've had such a terrible dream. I was travelling to California when a car took the wrong way on the highway ramp. It's still dark, so I turn over to snuggle and forget. The sheets though, they smell wrong. Shoving the pillow further under my head, the shock reaches me. This isn't my oddly shaped memory foam pillow, and this certainly isn't my bed. Scared that I may be waking up next to a weird one night stand at a truck stop after blacking out, I open my eyes slowly.

I'm alone in the bed. Thank god. It's actually quite a cute room. Moonlight shines in from a bay window over a window seat. Cream walls with white wooden trim tell me that I'm probably in a craftsman style home, where bedrooms are on the second floor. I've got a desk too my left, and 3 doors to my right. I get the feeling I've been here, but can't place it. Slipping out of bed quietly, I panic, noticing that I've been dressed by someone else in another's clothes. Or did I really drink so much that I put myself here and forgot? It's never happened before. What if I've been drugged and am in some creepy rapist's house? Walking slowly to be quiet, I cross into the moonlight strewn across the floor. Jumping, I try not to cry out. These aren't my feet, or my arms, and what's this? Long hair!

I sink to the floor, inspecting this body through touch and the little light. There's probably a light switch, but I don't want my captors to know I'm awake. I run my hands carefully over my limbs. This body has small feet, thin but defined calves, and strange thin hips. I have a little girl body. My arms are like those of a bird, with minimal muscle. The width across my shoulders and clavicle is too short. This torso is so compact, with tiny breasts and a flat tummy. Have I been starved and put under multiple surgeries? No, surely I would have been awake at some point over the months that would take. Though, it would explain the long hair. I weave the hair through my fingers, it's soft and falls well past these shoulders. Holding it up, I see that it's dark. Patting my face, I have no sense of familiarity with it.

I must be dreaming. I turn my head into my upper arm and bite down as hard as possible. Tears well in my eyes, and I must admit that the pain and flesh feel very real. I may be in the middle of some freaky body switch crisis, but I can't even begin to deal with that until I'm safe. Creeping back over to the desk, I look for a weapon. Nothing heavy or sharp, until I find a pair of scissors in the drawer. They'll do for now.

3 doors. Okay think, Beck, think. Obviously, the way out isn't the middle, because that would be two ajoined rooms on either side of a hall and those doors would be out there in the hall anyway. So… one of the outer doors. I creep to the floor, head to the ground to look under door 1. I can't see or hear anything. Crawling to 3, I put my head down at the door crack. The air underneath is a little cooler, with a faint drip sound, probably the bathroom then. Holding my scissors surely, I approach the farthest door on my left again. The old knob and hinges might be squeaky, so I carefully turn it and push it outward. Squeeek. It's tiny, but I freeze like a rabbit, wide eyed and twitchy. No sounds, so I move on.

I'm presented with a dark hallway, with carpet under my feet, and very faint glows coming from under 2 more doors on my right. Slowly, I near the staircase and descend. The bannister is real wood, polished and lovely. It seems like a well-kept turn of the century family home, which almost makes me feel better. I've got a tiny living room and an entrance hall. There have got to be more rooms behind me that the bedrooms sit over, but I'm on a mission so off to the kitchen it is. Knives, where are they? My eyes have become used to this dusk light, so I spot the knife block quickly. They're all stainless steel, and these counters are quartz if I'm not mistaken. This family must have a little money then, to have such an old house with nice renovations. I grab the small paring knife that can be easily concealed, and begin to hunt the rest of the house.

I find an office, a larger family room with cushier furniture, and the door to the basement where I find laundry and storage. How did I end up in this perfectly average family home? I've peeked out the windows to see that I'm in some suburban or small town street, with one car in the driveway. For several minutes, I debate stealing it, but I have no idea where I am or how I got here or who's face I'm wearing. Clutching my paring knife, I make my way back upstairs to find out if I'm home alone. If I am, I'm ransacking this place for keys and money to get the hell out of here.

First door. I slowly open it a crack, knowing about the creaking tendency of my own door. It's a bedroom much larger than mine, with a queen-sized bed framed by two windows on either side, and floral prints everywhere. A red-haired woman is asleep in the bed, by the size of the blanket lump, I judge that she's small and I could take her in a fight. Or at least, I could in my own body. Nervous, I close that door and move onto the next. In this one, the first thing I spot is the mess. The floor is lumpy with piles of clothes, and every surface is covered in cans, dishes, and other crap. It smells faintly of weed, and I can tell that someone is in the bed. Judging by the room and the skater shoes next to the door, I guess that the occupant is a teenage boy. I worry that he might be an older male that got into drugs and never matured, but either way I tally him as a potential threat. Worse, what if the redhead has a husband that isn't here right now?

I flee back into the relative safety of "my room." It's dawn and the sky outside is filled with the early purple, pink and orange of sunrise. With more light, I notice that I've got a mirror in the corner by the dresser. Eager to see what I look like, I rush toward it. Nina Dobrev. Nina Dobrev is standing in front of me. I pinch my face, and she does too. Oh god, this is the most real dream I've ever had. Then I look around, take in my appearance, and realize that I'm not Nina, I'm Elena Gilbert. I knew things looked familiar around here! The redhead must be Jenna, and the teen boy is obviously Jeremy. I just can't understand how my subconscious could create and explore such a detailed place. I usually have dreams where I'm in one place that gradually warps into the next destination. Oh well, I lay down on the cozy bed and wait to wake up, keeping my knife at my paranoid side.

~~~~~~~~ (content warning for an act of self-harm in first paragraph) ~~~~~~~~~~

I never woke up. Laying there, I mentally re-traced my steps. The journey. The headlights. The pain, and the release. I must be dead, or in a very heavy medical coma. If I am dead, I guess my soul accidentally got lost into one of the many infinite universes. If I'm in a coma, they must have me on some good shit to be mentally engaging so vividly. When the sun was half peaked over the tops of the houses across the street, I found out that I do bleed. I'd taken my paring knife and slashed across one of my calves. It hurt like hell so realistically, that I know I'm fully embodied in this form right now. Not a coma? The blood dribbled, clotted, and began to scab just like it should. I'm worried. The sun is hovering above the houses and trees now and – there's a knock at the door.

"Elena, are you up?" Three more knocks. "I've got breakfast downstairs!" Aunt Jenna cheerfully shouts through the door. My daughter instincts kick-in.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute!" I holler back like the tired teenager I seem to be. I grumble very realistically, as I roll out of the bed.

Okay, you are Elena Gilbert. You've got an aunt Jenna and a brother named Jeremy. You're going to go casually have breakfast, and pretend to be sleepy so you don't have to say much. I grab Elena's brush from her dresser and comb my hair. I figure that going to breakfast in pajamas is a pretty normal thing, so I go for it, making my way to the kitchen.

"Hey there sleepyhead, want some coffee?" Jenna sweetly offers, while I scoop myself into a stool at the island counter. Jeremy is next to me, doing his best impression of a homeless zombie, while hunched over a cereal bowl.

"Yes, please." I say through a yawn that I don't even have to fake. My new aunt bounces around the kitchen in a red shirt and jeans, babbling all the way as she gets me a cup of coffee. I'm careful to note which cupboard she gets the mug from, and the drawer for spoons.

So what do you think?" Jenna turns to me expectantly.

"Hmmm? I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well and zoned out. What's up?" I try to put sleepiness and sincerity into my tone of voice. I honestly am sorry, because I need as much information as I can get on what's going on here.

"Having sleep troubles again? Should we call Dr. Miller for an appointment?" The redhead's eyes stare into me, concerned, as she pushes over my coffee cup.

"Oh no, not like that. I'm okay, I just had weird dreams about like, airplanes filled with ducks and I kept waking up. Did you sleep okay?" My clear misdirect doesn't remove the concern from her eyes, but she seems to be giving me slack and takes the bait.

"Mhmm. I slept okay. Anyhow, I wanted to know if you had any plans for the day? I'm heading over to a hoity toity end of summer barbeque that the the Lockwoods are hosting," She leaned in a whispered with her hand over her mouth, like she had a secret, "Inviting all the town over at the start of an election year, hmmmm?" Raising her eyebrows, she drew away.

"Either of you kids want to come with your old aunty?" Jeremy grunted negatively in response. Judging by the barbeque, I guess it's a weekend. What would Elena do? She might go, but I won't know anyone's names.

"Ugh no thanks, I heard some rumors that Tyler Lockwood's being a real jerk. Plus, I think Bonnie wanted me over to help her Grams with the garden. I heard there might be pie," I wink with a smile. "so I guess I've got the better offer."

"No fair!" Jenna pulled a funny face with her nose scrunched, but let me leave the kitchen with my coffee without protest.

Back in the sanctuary of the bedroom, I start to search through Elena Gilbert's room looking for anything, everything. I need keys, money, a laptop. I'd like to disappear, but Elena is a minor and she'll be reported missing quickly. I need to salvage some semblance of autonomy here.

In the light, it's much easier to make my way around. I start closest to the door, systematically beginning to ravage this girl's room. We've got a girly white Victorian chair, a silver lamp, a big ol' dresser. I search the drawers. Panties, bras, jeans, and shorts, but no hidden stashes of cash or unmentionables. What kind of teenage girl do we have here? A cheerleader who just lost her parents, I guess.

The dresser top is adorned with photos and trinkets, signs of a life well-lived and well-loved. A friendship necklace hangs off the corner of a mirror, while wooden and silver frames show smiling faces looking up at me. I recognize Bonnie and Caroline in two of them, and I can work out the family photo. John and Miranda Gilbert look regal, standing on their front porch behind their two children. Miranda share's Jeremy's smile, and voluminous brunette hair. She looks like the kind of mom who bakes every week, and keeps a color-coded family schedule on her fridge. John, with his arm around her shoulders, has dark hair and the deepest brown eyes. They match the ones I see staring back at me in the mirror right now. I think, we even have the same nose too.

Suddenly, I have the urge to vomit. I'm so overwhelmed that I've stolen this girl's body, that I'm here somehow so far from my family, and I've taken this man's daughter from him. He's been taken from her too. My aunt always said that people stay alive as long as folks' keep them in their hearts. I can't help but feel that this man is just a little more gone now, and I don't even know about Elena. Did we swap places and that little girl found herself in 2017?

My white knuckles grip the edges of the dresser as I pull in deep, even breaths. I am a survivor. I can do this. Getting dropped into some other universe is not going to make me lay down and wait to die. And I especially got to get myself together, considering what a mess of a world I'm in now.

A doppleganger.

A look-alike of a seriously hated bitch. A bitch on the run from Klaus.

I exhale another breath, and look my new face right in the eye. I am not going to be used in a ritual, become vampire meat, or get fooled by some pretty boy with a century of charm. It's time to put my game face on, and get to work.