she's lost her voice (with nothing to speak for)
Carmilla's memorial feels entirely too long and too short at the same time. Laura requests that they have it at night ("Under the stars. Carmilla would've wanted it that way."), and so the dark grounds of Silas University are aglow with paper lanterns that Perry obsessively fussed over for a day straight. The lawn twinkles with dew like a mirror to the sky, a billion stars blinking back at each other. The Zetas have the bonfire lit and Kirsch uses a torch to light more lanterns. Danny stands at his side, adjusting his sling every time it slips with his movement. She scolds him halfheartedly and it makes him smile.
Laura's dressed in black with the batwing charm on her wrist and she feels older than Carmilla ever was. It's been five days and despite all the sleep she's been getting, her body protests everything as though she's been awake for weeks. Perry and LaFontaine stop by her dorm every morning just to check up on her.
Perry does most of the speaking for the memorial. It's a lot of talk about how Carmilla will be missed, how she redeemed herself in the end, how she'll be remembered by those she saved. Laura knows that Perry's being sincere and that this is all a part of her way of coping, and she despises herself for thinking that any of her notions are dishonest or rehearsed.
Carmilla lived for over 300 years and the only things that they can talk about are her last months at Silas. It makes Laura realize, with a sickening feeling, that she hadn't had enough time to learn about any aspect of Carmilla's life other than her tragic back story. There's so much that she'll never know. There's happiness that Laura won't ever get to hear about and the thought pricks at her eyes with pins and needles.
Finally, Perry gestures to Laura and asks her if she'd like to say a few words.
There's a crumpled piece of paper in Laura's pocket (and a dozen others on her dorm room floor), but she can only get through half of it before she chokes on her words. Perry ushers her away and LaFontaine finishes her speech.
They light the candles and release the lanterns into the sky, dozens of new stars, Laura thinks ruefully, that will burn out just as quickly as her time spent with Carmilla.
Day 5: I never wanted you to be a hero. I want you to be here.
She's turned the camera on and back off again more times than she can count.
It's no longer about keeping her viewers informed or keeping anyone safe or her journalism project. She doesn't know what it's about anymore.
Laura called her dad after they defeated the Dean. He hadn't been watching her videos, but he watched them after she explained herself. He must have because two days after she called, he called back and talked about Carmilla. The phone call reduced them both to blubbering messes, and this somehow managed to make Laura smile.
She realizes later that this was the first time she smiled since Carmilla died.
Day 11: My dad wouldn't have approved of your hygiene habits, but he approves of you.
For a few weeks, Betty resumes rooming with Laura.
It's nothing like how it used to be. Very little conversation is exchanged between them. Laura spends most of her time at her computer while Betty practically lives at the library, desperately trying to save her college education. Danny stops by occasionally and Laura isn't exactly sure why until Betty announces that she's moving into Danny's , they spent a lot of time at the library together, which turned into Danny offering to tutor Betty, which turned into something more. Betty is initially apprehensive about leaving Laura alone, but Laura assures her that she would be fine.
Grieving is a process that is sometimes best done alone.
Then come the nights where Laura's nightmares jolt her into consciousness, clutching at her yellow pillow like it's a life preserver. She no longer dreams of a black cat stalking her bed but of a white light consuming her and reducing Carmilla to ashes. Rats and coyotes gnaw at the legs of her bed. A little girl in a white nightdress drowns in a pool of her own blood.
Eventually, Laura stops sleeping altogether.
It isn't until Laura crashes in the middle of her Lit class that Perry and LaFontaine step in.
Danny carries Laura back into her dorm and Perry and LaFontaine spend the day watching over her. Perry cleans (Laura's been neglecting the bathroom) and LaFontaine stays out of her way, occasionally offering commentary.
When Laura wakes after sixteen straight hours of dreamless sleep, LaFontaine has movies loaded on their computer and Perry's baked enough brownies to feed a small village. The yellow pillow is there like a glaring reminder and Laura holds it tightly. She stays with LaFontaine and Perry for the next few days and returning to her empty dorm is arduous at best.
Sleep comes again and so do the nightmares.
Day 29: I would've given you the pillow if it meant that you'd come back. I don't know what I wouldn't give.
It isn't until Laura starts to dream about Carmilla that she thinks she's finally beginning to lose her mind.
The worst part is that, for one suspended, surreal moment, Laura thinks that it's real.
The dorm is dark, the time somewhere close to midnight, and the door creaks open. It wouldn't be Perry or LaFontaine; they always call before stopping by. Betty took all of her things with her when she left. She had no reason to be coming back in the middle of the night. Laura sits up from her bed, groaning. "Who the hell is it?"
"Carmilla," a voice says, "I'm your new roommate, sweetheart."
It's as though a jolt of electricity runs through Laura's body. She snaps upright, breath catching in her throat, and turns towards the door.
Carmilla's smirk softens into a smile. "Hey, cutie."
Without a moment's hesitation, Laura throws herself at Carmilla, hands frantically skimming over Carmilla's body because she's tangible and real and there's no way that it can be real. "You're here," she murmurs, choking on her unsteady breathing. "I watched you die. How can you be here?"
"It's gonna take a lot more than death to keep me from you," Carmilla's eyes suddenly turn black, "Elle."
Laura's breathing suddenly stops altogether. She looks down at her own body and sees that she's wearing a white nightdress. Her hair has turned a golden blonde color and her skin is pale. The tips of her nightdress turn red as blood begins to fill the room.
Carmilla's hands slide up to Laura's face and she presses their lips together.
Laura wakes, her face wet with tears. Her yellow pillow is on her bed and she's never wished that it would be on Carmilla's bed more.
Day 52: I wonder if you're with Elle. I wonder if you're happy.
Writer's block is a force like a brick wall that Laura can't seem to get past. It's ironic how writing is usually the one thing that can comfort Laura and now when she needs comfort the most, she can't seem to write a thing. She spends too much time crouched over her computer in her pajamas, practically tearing her hair out with frustration.
Every Thursday, LaFontaine comes over to Laura's dorm and they have cocoa together. This Thursday, LaFontaine comes over and finds Laura in this exact position.
"You gotta be kidding me, Hollis," they say flatly.
Laura back straightens with a crack that has her cringing. "Ow," she groans, running a hand through her hair. "Sorry you had to see that, LaF."
"I'm sorry, too." LaFontaine takes a seat on Laura's bed. They never sit on Carmilla's bed. "Not sure what you're trying to accomplish here, but if it's to look like a total hermit, then you're good."
"No…" Laura slumps into her chair. "It's just—writer's block, you know."
LaFontaine nods in understanding. They seem to hesitate before saying, "You think it's because you're lacking a muse or is it something else?"
A lump instantly forms in Laura's throat and she closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath. Her fingers reach down to toy with her batwing charm. "It's been over two months, I know, but—"
"That's not what I'm saying," LaFontaine interrupts firmly. "No one expects you to be alright yet. If it were Perry, I wouldn't be alright either."
Laura shudders. She doesn't even want to think about that.
"What I'm trying to say is that maybe she can still be your muse."
A crease forms in Laura's brow. "What do you mean?"
LaFontaine shrugs. "She lived for what? 334 years? Something like that. Anyways, she had to have had some pretty crazy adventures, right, being a hot vampire lady and all?"
Laura laughs lightly. With everyone skirting around the subject of Carmilla so adamantly, it's nice to hear LaFontaine talk about her so freely.
LaFontaine smiles at their achievement. "I think that you should write about her," they propose.
The light in Laura's eyes dims a bit. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "I can't turn this into some fairy tale or something if that's what you're—"
"I know that," LaFontaine says. "All I'm saying is that maybe journalism isn't your calling. No one's going to believe all the stuff that went down with vampires and The Light if you submit it to a newspaper. So…maybe this story is better suited for fiction."
Laura stares at them for a long time, pondering. "I don't know, Laf…" She shakes her head with uncertainty.
"Just think about it, okay?" LaFontaine stands, pats Laura's shoulder, and makes their way to the kitchen for the cocoa. "Let's watch some movies, yeah? You sound like you need a break."
Day 70: There are so many of your stories that I still want to hear.
So, Laura makes those stories up. Her Lit professor is very impressed with her tales of Mircalla Karnstein, the vampire heroine who, through time, transitions from being a countess to a pirate to a vigilante, saving young girls from the greedy hands of men. Mircalla steals maps of the sky and teaches herself astronomy to navigate the seas. She does battle with the Amazons of Greece before becoming their ally to defeat an evil king. A sorceress gives her the power to transform into a black cat and, in her cat form, Mircalla must slaughter the devious coyote William. She reluctantly teams up with a group of beefy cowboys to steal gold from the rich sheriff and give it to the poor town citizens.
Perry proofreads and edits all of her drafts, giving them back to Laura with her corrections and notes done in pink pen. LaFontaine sometimes leaves notes as well, theirs in green. They both love the stories and they tell Laura that Carmilla would, too.
Day 102: I think you'd either love or hate these stories. You're the hero of this piece, so you'd probably hate them. I guess this is my way of honoring your memory.
Every day: I miss you.
A/N: Thanks for reading! This is my first piece of Carmilla fanfiction, so constructive criticism is welcome. Favorite and review if you do feel so inclined.
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