I know I probably shouldn't be started another new story right now but my muse has changed paths :) Hope you like this one..

And can I just say that last episode killed me...Delena forever obviously but I swear I almost cried.

Anyway, here we go...

Shopping.

I'd always loved shopping. How much of a typical girl did that make me? As stereotypical as it was, those afternoons spent hanging around the mall with your friends, window shopping or actual shopping, eating the food court out of food…of course it was fun. I'm by no means one of those preppy girls, I mean; you won't find any pink in my wardrobe or diamond-print sweaters being tied over these shoulders. I laughed at those girls because it was difficult not to.

Why was I telling you this? It's completely and utterly not interesting, right… Well it's because right now, at this point in time, I was not enjoying it. Shopping that is. More boring waffling. I'll tell you why…because there was that man following me. Every shop I went into, he was there, every time I paused, so did he. If I went into the toilet, he'd wait outside and follow after.

Okay, it's not as creepy as it sounds. 'That man' was actually Blake Jones. He was twenty-three years old; he grew up in New York City and graduated from NYU. He was trained in martial arts, karate, boxing…just in general all those defensive (and occasionally offensive sports). Deceptively small…considering his profession. Yes he was about three times bigger than me, his arms were huge and he could probably bench-press a whale (well…slight exaggeration), anyway; you'd expect him to be massive. But I guess he had to blend in didn't he. Except with a face like that it was difficult because Blake Jones was stunning. Sounds strange describing a guy right. He was mixed race with those incredible green eyes, honey tone skin and knew exactly how to dress himself: not too tall but not too short…amazing.

Now why was I describing this 'stunning' yet random man?

Well, he was my bodyguard of course.

My family was rich…very rich. Now that wasn't to say I was spoilt because I wasn't…at least I didn't think I was. My parents, both of whom were very successful doctors, didn't give me everything I wanted, only what I deserved, and that was something I was thankful for. I do sound spoilt don't I? Poor little rich girl who didn't get an iPad Mini for doing the washing up. It doesn't matter that you already have one! Give the girl more-

No. I put it down to my father's British heritage that we were generally a modest family. We lived a comfortable life in a decent sized house just a short distance from the hospital where they worked. The only real display of wealth was the cars, of which we had three but only through necessity.

So why the bodyguard, you ask? Well it was a new thing…only a few days in fact; I was still getting used to it, though I was sure I never would. The reason for it all was still plainly visible on my face, my arms…everywhere. Hence the hood pulled over my head, the long sleeves and skinny jeans. I needed more clothes before I left tomorrow; that's the only reason why I left the house. I didn't want to.

The reason was Jason Hart, my ex-boyfriend of over two years. Now he was a nice guy…at first. I'll tell you now that this is not an original story; it's happened time and time again around the world; everyday. There'll be no surprises here. It was that classic story of girl meets boy, girl falls in love with boy, boy and girl are very happy…and then boy starts getting angry or jealous. Then one night boy hits girl and because girl loves him so much they stay together, but it only gets worse.

Except there was a slight variation. He'd never hit me before that one time, last Tuesday in fact. Sure he'd been angry before, violent but not towards me, I guess you could say it was more psychological. Messed up for teen's right? My parents never liked him, though they wouldn't say it. They were big on the 'if you're happy, we're happy' policy. But that didn't mean they liked him; when he came over it was always a little awkward. Well, a lot awkward, but what did I know? See there was always that kind of tension in our relationship. I knew he was the jealous and insanely possessive type but I always got the feeling that if I tried to break up with him it wouldn't go down well; not that I wanted to. He always texted me or called me…he wanted to know where I was, who I was with, when I would be back. Stupid me I just thought he was nice like that.

Now where did that stupid and naïve frame of mind get me? In a hospital bed with a bullet wedged into my side, another on my shoulder and fucking pain everywhere.

It wasn't like I was under witness protection or anything; Jason was in jail for attempted murder (or on the way there at least) and there was no one coming after me. Typical it may be but there were no vengeful families in this story; his parents were on my side. They'd come to the hospital and apologised a million times for their son. I didn't hold grudges…I'd only ever hold one. No guesses who held that prize.

My parents were convinced that I was a 'danger magnet'; more literal than the nickname they'd jokingly given me when I repeatedly injured myself as a child. So they contacted this firm and just like that I had a second shadow…lucky me. Maybe it was a good thing though because I didn't like being out on my own right now and I couldn't imagine not startling at loud noises ever again.

Tomorrow the 'clean slate' began, as my parents had called it. A lot of things were set to change.

Firstly, I wouldn't be living with them anymore. They were moving to Richmond, Virginia so that they were closer to the hospital where there new jobs were situated. I felt bad for making them move but it was more their decision to leave the city where so many places would remind me of him. Where was I going? To nowhere, it seemed. Mystic Falls…it even sounded like nowhere. I was picturing a dead end town in the middle of the absolutely nowhere. That was where my Aunt Jenna lived with her husband Alaric and their son Jeremy. That was the town my parents had grown up and the place I'd spent the first six years of my life. Did I remember it? Hardly.

But that was where I was going, my shadow by my side and the clothes I was currently purchasing. Wherever it was, I wouldn't complain about a fresh start. I needed to get away from this city because in two years I couldn't think of anywhere here that I hadn't been with him. Besides, it was only for one year…just finish senior year, then University and by then this would all just be a vague memory in the back of my mind. Something to tell the kids…when they're old enough; a life experience, let's say.

Hmm…we'll see about that.

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