This is my new Klaroline story, this is the prologue, so tell me what you think! (Rated M for abuse and sexual activity) DARK ELIJAH!
It's been three years since I met Elijah Mikaelson. I was seventeen then, he was twenty. He was amazing, he loved me with all his heart, always made sure I was safe, he never let me do stuff if it meant any danger to me. We had a great relationship for about two and a half years, but then he changed. Elijah started rapidly drinking, and he was always drunk. Even today he is never sober. At first he just drank a bottle or two, not enough to waste him... but then he started drinking more and more until he slurred his words. When Elijah is drunk he isn't funny or bubbly, he is angry and it scares me. I have thought about leaving him, multiple times, but I can't convince myself to do it. Ever time he hits me, or calls me worthless, I feel something in me die: my tolerance for Elijah. I don't feel the same way I did for him, nor do I think I ever will. I just can't leave him, because he needs my help. If I was going through the same thing Elijah wouldn't even consider leaving me. He came back from rehab yesterday, it didn't work to say the least. He faked recovery and came back meaner and angrier. He claims that I forced him to go and it was selfish of me to do so. I didn't force him: his sister Rebekah did. Rebekah loves Elijah just as much as I do, she comes over everyday to check on him. She doesn't know he hits me, she barely knows anything. Elijah makes sure she doesn't see it.
"Caroline?" Elijah groans and sits up in bed. He must have the worst hangover ever. He confirms this when he rubs his head in pain. I quickly jump out of bed to retrieve some advil or ibuprofen and a glass of water for him. "Don't bother, I have my own methods."
I turn to look at him and raise my eyebrow. "No, you don't. I'll be right back with something to help you." I don't wait for his reply, I quickly leave the room to fetch him something to help him. Once I'm in our small kitchen, in our very small apartment, I pour him a glass of water and grab two ibuprofen. Once I get back to the room I sigh at the sight. Elijah is drinking. Not surprising, that's how he gets rid of hangovers. "Elijah, I got you some water and ibuprofen, why don't you use this instead so you don't get another hangover?" I ask him this question like I would ask a two year old: slow and with a sweet voice.
"Bullshit!" Elijah shouts and throws the empty beer bottle at the wall. I jump backwards when a couple pieces of glass shatter and land in front on me.
"Elijah!" I shout back, "That almost hit me!" I exclaim with he just laughs.
"Ask if I care." He say in between laughs.
I ignore his last comment and walk into the bathroom. I slip out of my clothes and into in the shower. Once the water is warm enough I step under the water so I can enjoy it's heat. After I'm sure Elijah can't hear me I start to break down and cry. I lean my back against the wall of the shower and slowly slid down to the bottom of the shower. I wrap my arms around my legs and bury my face in my knees trying to control my sobs. But it's no use, I need to go to my over method. I reach up, and grab my hairbrush. I wiggle the handle of it off and I shake it until I get what I'm looking for. My razor blade.
I bring the blade to the skin on my stomach and I slice the skin. Over and over again. I cut open new skin, I reopen healing cuts and I cut over the scars. I know my stomach is hideous, but this is how I take care of my problems. I replace mental pain with physical pain. It actually does work. But Elijah wouldn't be happy if he found out, and neither would I. I want it to be my little secret. That's why I d it on my stomach and not on my wrists, that'd be way too obvious. Once my blood goes down the drain I stand up and allow the water to wash the remainder blood off my stomach. The water makes my skin sting, and bite my lip in pain.
After the slits on my stomach are dry I slip on a pare of skinny jeans and a white blouse. I quickly brush my teeth and hair then exit the bathroom. I quickly wish I hadn't. Elijah is still drinking and is still angry. "What took you so long?" Elijah asks angry.
I huff and say, "Elijah, honey I'm sorry I won't take long next time. I promise."
"Do. Not. Call. Me. Honey." Elijah says while drinking yet another bottle.
"Sorry." I mumble. Someone knocks on the door, I assume it's Rebekah, "Come in!" I shout hoping she hears me over Elijah throwing a bottle of of whisky across the room.
The door opens and I know she heard me. I don't bother t turn around, instead I decide to clean up the glass bottles that are spread out across the room. I hear someone clean their throat and I turn and look at the door, and jump back in surprise, it's not Rebekah. "Um, can I help you?" I ask wearily, praying it's not one of Elijah's friends.
"Um yes actually. I'm Klaus. Rebekah sent me here to check on Elijah... she can't make it today." The man has Elijah's accent. He is also very attractive, he looks a little older than me, but younger than Elijah.
"Oh, okay. Is Rebekah your girlfriend or something?" I ask curious to why he is here.
He chuckles at this, "No no no no. Rebekah is my sister."
My eyes widen, "Oh sorry I didn't know. Elijah never mentioned having more siblings." I put the glass I was holding in the trashcan and I shake Klaus' hand, "Hey, I'm Caroline. Elijah should be-" Has is on cue Elijah walks into the room. Well more like wobbles, he is too drunk to walk straight. Klaus' eyes widen when he sees Elijah in this state, "Elijah, honey look, it's Klaus." I say sweetly to Elijah.
Elijah walks over to me and slaps me across the face with such force that I loose my balance, "I told you not to call me honey." I nod my head, understanding his request.
"What the hell was that!" Klaus shouts while stepping around me and walking towards Elijah.
"She's my girlfriend, I can do whatever I want with her!" Elijah exclaims while offering Klaus and beer bottle. Klaus accepts it only to throw it away.
Klaus turns to look at me, I'm cupping my cheek, trying to make the pain go away. Klaus slowly walks towards me, "I don't even know what to say about this."
"It's normal, I'll be fine. You should probably go, Elijah doesn't enjoy company anyway." I say back and point to Elijah who is drowning in more alcohol.
"No." Klaus says sternly, "No way in hell am I leaving you here with him again."
"Klaus, it's fine. I can take care of myself." I whisper, I don't want Elijah to hear this conversation.
"No, my brother is my problem too. I'm staying here."
"Klaus it won't matter the second you leave he will hit me again!" I exclaim in anger, I don't want to drag Klaus into this.
"Not if I don't leave." Klaus states while he settles down next to Elijah and takes the bottle from him. Klaus is fast enough to dodge the punch that Elijah sent at him, whereas I would have been hit in the jaw. "You need me." Klaus says while he turns to me, "Please let me stay."
I just nod my head, Elijah will be mad, but I will be protected, at least for a night.