Prologue
It had been 11 years since they last saw each other.
To be precise, 10 years, 10 months and 19 days.
The only reason she remembered this was because she had forced herself to count the days. It was the only thing she could hold on to, rational and realistic. Numbers, figures. Tangible only in her mind.
It seemed quite silly to think about it, now, after all these years. She was practically 30, an adult in every way.
In some ways she was hardly changed. In others she had changed so completely that there was no trace left to be found, however hard one may look, of her old self.
The bloom of her life was over. The days that were once filled with tears and laughter were now filled with lassitude. A grey spectrum could be used to describe her life in these past years. The days only differing in a progressive darkening of shade.
Time seemed to have lost its relevance. Was a month long? Short? Five years? Nine years?
She could never give an answer to these questions.
In some way every passing minute took a lifetime, because life seemed unbearable. Yet 10 years of her life were all a blur. The last memory she could gaze on with clarity was one of the last times she saw her sister.
'What did she feel when she thought about her sister?'
Nothing, she felt absolutely nothing.
In her memory she could find the love that she once held for her, the solicitude.
But it felt like another person's memories. The feeling seemed familiar, yet as far away from her grasp as it could possibly be. Like a feather that keeps getting picked up by the wind. Every attempt at catching it made futile by the wind that will forever keep the feather in its grasp. At arms length, but never to be held. A repeating progress, never to be stopped. At length the feather only becomes a distant idea, a faded picture. But she knew that she had to keep going, because that's all she's ever done.
If she would allow herself to stop running, to stop trying to catch the feather, all hope would be lost. Every foundation of her, the old her, would be turned to dust. Never to be rebuilt again, because even the strongest man can't be rebuilt from ashes.
The door creaked. Footsteps.
She didn't sit up, nor open her eyes.
She knew who it was, it was always the same person.
The same routine, every day.
'Elena, honey. I brought you some chocolates from that place on the corner of Alaric's old apartment building. I know that you used to love these, you would rave about them all the time to me and Jeremy.'
She heard the 'clank' and felt the drop of the box that was deposited on her bed but didn't stir.
A sigh was heard, piercing through the silence. Obscure, and easily to be ignored. But Elena knew better, she knew what that sigh signified. It held much more meaning than any words could. A reproach, an act of pity, hopelessness in its pure form. She had been hearing these sighs for months, could visualise them, almost taste them.
'You can't stay this way forever, you know? Life goes on. Clocks never cease to tick. You can't stay like this, locked up in a dark room. You're too young to be this weary, and too alive to lay unmoving.'
Even though the voice kept talking, the words stopped registering in her mind. What use did words have when they held no meaning for the person spoken to?
Madness crept up on her little by little, making her paranoid and causing her to sometimes get unreasonably angry and experience strong feelings of loneliness.
Sometimes she wondered if it hadn't already completely overtaken her.
But she knew this could not be true, for suspecting yourself of being something was always the sign that you weren't. Self-denial was the only true form of confirmation, and she wasn't one to dabble in denial.
'...Damon'
Elena's felt an icy shiver crawling up her spine. Her breathing became shallow and she clenched her fists. Why did her aunt have to say his name? It was the first time she ever heard his name spoken out loud since it happened. It was a bittersweet feeling, crushing her and rebuilding her at the same time.
She used to be normal, happy and carefree. She used to have a life, hopes, dreams. The silly things every young girl has.
He destroyed them. Annihilated every thing she ever stood for and discarded her as a mere housing that was plundered from all its valuables.
'Elena, STOP!'
At this she finally cracked open her eyes and witnessed the distressed face of her aunt. What right did Jenna have to be distressed? After all, she was the one who uttered those two rotten syllables. She was the one who had brought it up after all this time.
Blood. There was blood seeping from her hands. She had clenched her fists to the point of digging her fingernails deep into her flesh.
She stared at her hands with a sort of morbid curiosity. It didn't even hurt.
Jenna was sobbing by this point 'Elena, what happened to you? What happened to my niece who would always wear a smile and took every opportunity to make someone else happy? I know that life hasn't been easy for you. Hell, I don't know anyone who's had it harder than you have. But I can't keep doing this anymore, I can't watch you wither away more and more every time I come to see you. I would rather consider you dead and keep you in my memory as my loving niece than remember you like this.'
Elena looked up, a faint incoherent mumbling escaping her chapped lips with the motion.
'What did you say?'
She cleared her throat, it was raw and felt strange from years of disuse.
'Why did you say his name?' She released in an agonised whisper.
On hearing this Jenna's face painted a perfect picture of the idea of utter exasperation.
'Is that all you've got to say? After all these years of silence that is what you have to say? Won't you ever-
She repeated herself, sounding stronger this time.
'Why did you say his name?'
She scrupulously examined the face of her aunt, staring challengingly into her eyes.
Jenna seemed to give up, and let herself slide down onto the floor with a loud thud.
She buried her head in her hands and appeared to be arguing with herself.
Elena watched this all in silence. Only a few minutes had passed when Jenna lifted her head up again, banging it against the wall.
She looked at Elena with a very tired expression.
'Because, Elena. Damon passed away.'
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Time seemed to catch up on her at last, her whole life was seen played before her eyes. Up to the last time she saw him.
She heard a loud ringing in her ears, and felt dizzy.
Staring blankly at a wall, she didn't even register the departure of her aunt.
When she regained some sense of awareness, it was because she felt something wet on her cheek. A lone tear had fallen from her eye. It was a day of new beginnings, because this was equally the first time she had ever shed a tear since it happened.
He broke her, but she loved him still.
Loved him like she never loved before.
Loved him like she'll never love again.
Because when she loved someone, she loved them forever.