AN: Hello everyone! I know you're saying 'why is she writing this when she's supposed to be working on her other story?' Yes, I know that's what you're saying, but never fear. This is going to be a shorter story, and it's just for me to cleanse my palate, so to speak. If I focus on one story for too long I get writer's block, so this will help with that. I got this idea after seeing a story prompt somewhere (I can't remember where). Anyway, magic is real in this story. Werewolves might be real in this story (I haven't decided). Vampires are not in this story. (Sorry, I just couldn't think of how to write them in.) I don't own anything concerning the Vampire Diaries. (Did anyone really think I would?) Please leave some reviews so that I will know you're actually reading this. Thank you for your time! :)


"Everything you can imagine is real."

~ Pablo Picasso


Caroline sighed in annoyance as she watched the battery bar on her phone drop from 96 percent to 94 percent. She had been on this bus, sitting next to a sleeping Matt Donovan, for roughly an hour now. She knew this trip would be a long one, but she had read through her magazines in the first thirty minutes anyway. She had signed up for this travel-abroad trip to the UK thinking that she would find adventure and fun. What she got was the complete opposite.

There was drama from the rest of the cheerleaders who had joined them on the trip. Most of it was started by Elena and her twin sister, Katherine, who couldn't get along if their lives depended on it. There was drama from her (currently ex) boyfriend Tyler, who couldn't come on the trip with them, due to the fact that he had gotten suspended for a prank that had nearly left an underclassman named Sarah in a wheelchair. When there was drama, everyone always looked to Caroline to sort it out, and that's not what she wanted to do on this trip. The only person not adding to Caroline's stress was Matt, but he was currently drooling on her shoulder right now, so she was annoyed with him too.

The teachers in charge of their study-abroad program were Elena and Katherine's father and his recently-graduated star pupil, Dr. Maxwell. Dr. Maxwell was young, and hot, but he had talked Greyson into saving money wherever they could. That meant that instead of staying in the city of London, they were staying outside the city. At this point, Caroline was seriously considering opening the emergency exit window and jumping out.

Everyone on the bus was jolted around when the tires hit a particularly impressive bump in the road, and that finally woke Matt up. He mumbled an apology to Caroline and was barely able to ask if they were at the museum before he finally fell asleep with his head lulling the other direction. Caroline rolled her eyes and looked at the itinerary on her phone. Today was the day they were going to an art gallery in London. Usually, the thought of looking at art would have thrilled Caroline. It was one of her secret pleasures. However, she didn't relish the thought of being herded from room-to-room, nor did she want someone else to tell her what a particular painting meant. She liked to determine that for herself.

Finally, when Caroline looked out the window, she could see that she was surrounded by huge buildings and bustling people. This part of the trip excited her. The city was practically alive, and the people milling around was like the blood moving through its veins. If she listened closely, she could almost hear it breathing. She couldn't help but think, if she were on her own, she would love this. She would sit at the large fountain in the middle of Trafalgar Square and just breathe it all in.

The bus pulled up outside of the museum, and Caroline sighed as she stood to exit the bus. Once she was off the bus, she heard students behind her huffing and grunting, and she turned around to see Katherine pushing her way through them. She got to where Caroline was standing and hooked arms with her.

"Ready to go see some boring ass paintings that we could just look at online?" Katherine asked.

Caroline huffed a laugh. "Yeah, totally," she said.

The minute she got inside, she would find a way to ditch Katherine, who was only being so clingy because she was pissed at Elena for something. Katherine and Caroline both looked at the huge staircase leading to the museum; Katherine's expression held trepidation due to the amount of stairs she'd have to climb in her impossibly tall heels. Caroline's expression was nothing but hopeful as she awaited the quiet tranquility of the museum.

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The museum was huge, and it was beautiful. There was something new around every corner, and it was somewhat overwhelming. Caroline wanted to see it all; she wanted to get up close and examine every inch of the paintings that were housed in their golden frames. She wouldn't be able to get too close, because apparently that wasn't allowed, but she would push the rule to its limits.

She listened attentively as Mr. Gilbert called out the roll, and said here when she heard her name. After she made sure she was accounted for, she was ready to break off from the group. Katherine was currently flirting with Matt, but she'd be back to Caroline in no time, sticking to her side like velcro. Caroline needed a plan. She sought out twin #2, Elena, and went into full manipulation mode.

"Hey 'Lena," Caroline said after walking up to her.

Elena smiled at her. She and Caroline were super close up until 9th grade when they both wanted to date Matt Donovan. The jealousy and rivalry almost ruined their friendship for good, but they were able to salvage their relationship after they realized that they weren't accomplishing anything, and that Matt wouldn't risk his friendship with either of them. Still, they were never the same after that fight.

"What's up Care?" Elena asked.

"Katherine's sticking to me like glue," Caroline said, using her annoyed yet empathetic tone. "I wish Trevor would have been able to come with us to keep her occupied."

Elena giggled. "Yes, I'm sure he misses being at my sister's beck and call 24/7."

Caroline smiled; this was working. "Listen, I really want to slip away from the group. This is fun and all, but I haven't had a moment to myself since we got to London," Caroline explained. "Do you think you could cover for me?"

"Oh… uh, sure Caroline," Elena said. Caroline knew she was anything but sure, but she also knew that Elena could be trusted to keep secrets. "You're not leaving the museum, right?"

"No! No, I'll be easy to find. I just really want some quiet, you know?"

Elena nodded and smiled. "Okay, sure." She sounded more okay with the plan now. "We'll be here for a few hours, so just text me and let me know you're okay?"

"Definitely. Thanks Elena!"

Caroline let herself fall behind the rest of the group as they began their tour of the museum. The tour guide didn't pay much attention to the back of the group at all, and fortunately, two of the basketball players blocked Caroline from being seen. Greyson and Dr. Maxwell were preoccupied with making sure the kids weren't taking pictures with their cell phones. This was her chance; her golden opportunity. She walked left, and slipped away and into another room just off the central hall. She only glanced back once, and she saw Elena giving her a thumbs up and a grin.

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The gallery was beautiful. Caroline took her time looking at each painting that interested her. Her favorite room by far was The Sainsbury Wing. She wondered what you had to do to actually get a wing named after you, and determined it was far more than she'd ever accomplish. The walls were beautifully papered in pale green. The ceiling was high – like the other rooms – and it had gold accents on it. It was completely glass to let in the most natural lighting possible. In one word, it was incredible.

According to the guidebook she'd finagled away from a preteen boy who really didn't want to be here right now, this wing housed the Gallery's collection of art from 16th century Venice. When Caroline's father and stepfather took her to her first art museum of repute, she had been twelve years old, and she was instantly drawn to the Rococo art with its light, pastel blues and pinks. Now, however, she had become attracted to the earlier styles of art. The Renaissance painters were quickly becoming some of her favorites.

Caroline was enjoying the paintings in this room; their darker palate was oddly satisfying to her. She took her time, reading each placard in its entirety from start to finish. However, when she heard the teachers' voices echoing down one of the hallways – no doubt scolding one of the football players for doing something stupid – she panicked. She wasn't ready to be caught just yet, so she turned the opposite direction, and escaped through the door labeled 'Way Out'.

She rounded a corner, and she was certain they couldn't see her. Still, she wanted to make sure, just in case another student got the same idea she did and branched away from the group. She looked around, but the only option she had was a closed door. She assumed it was locked, and when she tried the handle, her assumptions were found to be correct. Her brow furrowed, and she took the pins out of her hair. Her mother was the sheriff of their small town, so Caroline had spent a lot of time at the precinct waiting for her to get off work. This meant that she had spent a lot of time around some unsavory characters – well, as unsavory as you can get in a small town like Mystic Falls.

She used the trick she had learned and had the door opened in record time. She was surprised that they didn't have some sort of alarm on this door that would alert someone to the fact that someone had broken into it. When she walked through the door, she noticed that it wasn't a room at all. Instead, it was a small, rickety-looking staircase. Caroline frowned; this was definitely somewhere she should not investigate. If not because it was creepy, then because of the fact that it could just lead to another door she's not supposed to know about.

She debated with herself for only half a minute before her more curious side won out. She wrapped a hair tie around the door knob, making sure it wouldn't latch completely so that she wouldn't get locked in, and she carefully started down the long staircase.

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The staircase was sturdier than it looked, but it was still squeaky from disuse. She could have been at the bottom step faster if she were able to sprint, but that would make too much noise. She barely touched the railing as she went down, because wherever she touched it, a layer of dust would come off onto her hand. When she did finally reach the bottom step, she breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't just walked all this way to a dead end; a long room spread out in front of her. It was dark, and Caroline could practically smell the mildew. She shook her head in disappointment. If she were curator here, she'd never let this room get in such a condition.

She looked all over the walls for a light switch, but it wasn't on the wall near the entrance. She huffed; of course it would be on the other freaking wall. She sucked it up, and started walking towards the other end of the room. It was longer than she thought. The light from the doorway barely reached halfway to the room, and now she was in almost-complete darkness. Normally she wasn't afraid of the dark, but she was in a place she didn't know, and there could be anything in here. There could be anyone in here. Suddenly she was very nervous, and she felt the skin on the back of her neck and along her shoulders prickling. It felt as though someone were watching her.

She sped up and finally reached the other side of the room. Her eyes had adjusted a bit, and she could make out shadows playing against the light coming from the doorway on the other side of the room. They almost looked like people dancing, but it wasn't a nice dance. It was scary. She felt along the wall, and finally found a switch. She flipped it up, and the lights in the room flickered on. They lit up the room, starting over her head, and moving towards the doorway. She let out a sigh of relief; she was safe as long as the lights were on.

The lights let out a humming, buzzing sound that refused to fade into the background. They weren't the modern, updated lights that the main galleries had. These were old; like the lighting in the archives of the courthouse, where they didn't think they needed to spend the money to make upgrades because hardly anyone saw that part of the building. These lights got the job done, though. Caroline looked around the room. This looked like a storage area, and the dancing silhouettes of shadows that Caroline had seen earlier had been from dust cloths that were draped over statues and some paintings. Opening the door had let in a breeze, which had moved the cloths that hadn't been moved in quite some time.

Caroline didn't like that all of this wonderful art was just shut away down here. She decided to make use of her time down here, before someone inevitably came in and found her. She started with the painting nearest to her, and started flipping through them. Every time she moved a drop cloth, she would sneeze because of the dust that stirred up. She had gone through about three stacks without finding anything that interested her; she was beginning to understand why these paintings were down here.

When she got about halfway through the stacks, she reached a very short stack of paintings. She looked through them, and was instantly enamored by them. One had a label on the back of them; they were 16th century, but they had more detail than other paintings of this time. She wasn't an expert, but she saw common characteristic that most paintings of the time shared. These were more realistic; she actually felt as if she could talk to the people in these portraits. The tone of the paintings went from dark and guarded, and got progressively lighter as she looked through them, but they were all by the same artist.

There was one portrait in particular – sitting off to itself – which caught her eye. The painting looked like the artist had really taken their time with it; as if it were painted because of love. This painting was the lightest of all. It was the portrait of a young woman, from behind, with her hands delicately folded behind her back. Her head was slightly turned, as if she were preparing to face the viewer. In the background of the painting, there was a young boy playing with a dog in his garden. Perhaps she had been watching him.

Suddenly, Caroline felt quite drawn to the painting. She felt her hand move towards it, almost of its own will. She was mesmerized as her hands touched the painted canvas, tracing the lines of the woman. As she did this, she felt an odd sensation wash over her. She felt as though she were becoming lighter and lighter, until it felt like she wasn't even there anymore. She almost felt as though she were floating, and suddenly, everything shifted. She closed her eyes because if she didn't, she would have gotten motion sickness. Finally, as though she were being sucked into something and then spat out, there was a big spark of light, and Caroline hit her head on something hard as she landed.