[Edited]

Dear diary,
I don't really know how to start this off, so I'm just going to be blunt, God talk about a trashy introduction right? Well, Marcel got me this journal, saying how I should exploit my emotions which I think in my opinion I am very good at doing, but anyway, let me give you a background check as to who I am.

My name is Clarity Montgomery. I'm a hybrid, meaning I'm a vampire, a werewolf and a witch. I was born here in New Orleans in the year 1650. I was turned when I was 19 years old, which somehow caused my werewolf and witch genes to grow even more powerful than before, considering the fact that I was born of a powerful witch bloodline and my father was an alpha of the Labonair werewolf pack, but one day my entire home was attacked when I was in my late teen's and killed all of my family, but force fed me blood and then killed me which somehow caused me to be what I am now. I left my hometown, but sought my vengeance against those who had killed my pack and I got my retribution for my family and pack.

I moved directly into the heart of the Quarter and came across the Governor, a cruel man, who sought nothing but power and money. He captured me, even though I was more than capable of handling myself, but they had managed to vervain me in my sleep and captured me and brought me to the Governor who offered me a deal that I protect him and in exchange he would keep the remnants of my pack safe or he would kill them all off, slowly and painfully, I found this something that I would forever regret, but found myself consenting to his terms.

I was wrong about it. I discovered that the Governor had a son from a slave that he had owned, which I found absolutely revolting that he would degrade a woman such as he did considering he had raped her and took her virginity. It was the day of the Governer's son's funeral, apparently he had fallen down the stairs, which if I was honest was rather hard to believe. I mean, I don't know about you, but I've heard a lot of things, but falling down the stairs and dying just like that is not one of them.

Until, I discovered the truth that I was not the only one who was a vampire that resided in the French Quarter, an entire family actually. The Original Family. I would never have found out about them if it wasn't for Marcel, he was the one who brought us together, but ironically enough the thing that split us apart.

I had saved Marcel from a beating from one of the Governors soldiers and had killed him, which normally I wouldn't do as I thought that killing was something that was deemed unnecessary and cruel, and something that I hated about my kind, but seeing the way the poor boy being struck with such disdain and cruelty, brought out my infamous werewolf temper. Anyway, I helped the young boy when a man approached us. His name? Niklaus Mikaelson. I left them when I saw that they were bonding and that he had even decided to name him Marcellus which was befitting for him. Little warrior. Although I figured Niklaus would have no real interest in me, boy how wrong I was. He questioned me as to why I helped Marcellus I told him that he was a child that didn't deserve such treatment and that anyone with any common sense would have done the same thing which seemed to have cut through to him, more than one would have hoped and he seemed to have a newfound respect for me.

We bonded over a few weeks and I ended up moving to the Compound, but I never once told Niklaus why I was ever in the Plantation in the first place, but like all secrets the truth unravelled itself and when Niklaus discovered of the Governer's hold over me and how I had been kept in the Plantation as a prisoner, he had this rage upon his face, something that I had never seen before, so honestly I should have been less surprised when he turned up dead the next day, but I couldn't help but feel guilt for how it was my fault that he had ended up dead. I mean, I should have prevented it somehow, but I didn't.

Niklaus tried to convince me that he had it coming for what he did to me and what he did to Marcellus, which I had to admit I was a bit satisfied with his death for what he had done to Marcellus, but I still felt guilty for the part I played in his death.

I was quick to make friends with the other Originals, even Kol, which was a surprise to say the least and Niklaus became quite overprotective especially when he saw Kol's flirtatious behaviour towards me, but I convinced him time and time again that nothing was going to happen, but Kol seemed to sense his brothers anger towards this and instead of stopping he continued trying to rile his brother up.

Things went perfect, we all had grown a home, a family and the relationship between Niklaus and I was growing and we lived in peace for a hundred years, until one year in 1919.

That was the year our family was torn apart because Mikael, the Destroyer, the "Vampire Who Hunts Vampires" came to New Orleans and he forced us to flee, to abandon our home. We left, believing that Marcellus had died in the fire that Mikael had set ablaze, but instead he had survived and instead of seeking us out and remaining a family, he had taken everything that the Mikaelson's had created.

I had stayed with Klaus through thick and thin, even when he had daggered all his siblings, I refused to let him believe that I would abandon him like he believed all of his siblings had done and stayed, until I got a tip-off saying about a war between the vampires and the werewolves and I told Niklaus that I had to leave and he was angry at me at first, but when I explained my reasons why I had to go, we seemed to come to a mutual understanding and he allowed me the chance to return to New Orleans, but that was my first mistake.

When I returned I discovered that not only had Marcel lived, but he had taken everything from Klaus and became the self-proclaimed "King of New Orleans." I soon discovered that it was Marcel who was fighting against my pack. So, I fought back against all the vampires Marcel sent out, I had discovered that he had changed, he became cold-hearted and distant, no longer the boy that I had raised like a son.

Marcel offered me a deal in return for the fact that my pack would remain alive and well, but it came at a price I was to remain in the Quarter and act as a personal protector. When I first heard what he was asking of me, it made me think back to when the Governor offered me the exact same proposition and how they were acting more similar than one would have thought, but l knew I had to do what was right by my pack and for my family and so I agreed to his offer and was kept in the Compound in a secret room that not many know about.

And, so that's my story. An unbelievable one, I know, but my story nonetheless. I should go now, things to do, people to see. Until next time

Love Clarity Montgomery

I released a sigh before closing the diary that Marcel had brought for me and I guess in a way it helped, normally I would just ignore the problem until it goes away, but maybe this was what I needed. I then went over to my vanity table and sat on the bench and saw an odd tear had made it's way down my cheek and quickly wiped it away. I guess these were the days that I missed Klaus he was, and technically still is, my best friend and I never even got to say a proper goodbye, but this was my life now, so I just have to keep on hoping for the best or at least try and persevere through all the bad times.

I could have had it worse though, I mean sure I was kept in New Orleans when there was a million other places I would much rather be, but at least I had the will to leave this bloody room, not a lot of people have that luxury.

One person who I could think of was a witch called Davina Claire, I had stayed with her for a couple of months after the Harvest and I sympathised with her because of this. It absolutely disgusted me that they could kill off 4 innocent girls just for the off chance that they would come back to life and that they would gain more power.

I got dressed quickly and had a shower and made my way down to the kitchen where a fridge was stockpiled with blood bags and poured one into a glass and gulped it down before my phone buzzed, breaking the eery silence among the Compound, considering Marcel and his followers were out, probably draining the town's tourists dry.

I then fish my phone out of my jacket pocket and when I saw who it was a sigh escaped my lips unintentionally.

"Get to Rousseaus now," I was greeted with, before Marcel hung up the phone on me, causing me to roll my eyes in disbelief before I left the Compound and made my way over to Rousseau's.

I got there quite quickly, thanks to my vampire speed, and saunter into the bar, where it was flooded with vampires all over, mainly Marcel's day walkers, when I spy Marcel and make my way over to the table.

"Marcel?" I call out, which seemed to cause his attention to drift towards me and away from whoever he was talking to. The man I could take it wore a leather jacket and had slightly curled crown of sandy hair, which almost made me believe it was Klaus. Almost. I knew that it was impossible for Klaus to ever come here to New Orleans and even if he did, I wouldn't have wanted him to go killing Marcel just because he did something that I was quite angry at him about.

The man, whoever he was, seemed to freeze up when he heard my voice, and in lightening speed was right up in front of my face and it also caused me to stop in turn.

"Klaus?" I question, disbelief evident in my voice.

"Clary?"