Image of death

..."So maybe there's a part of me that's buried here", Isobel said while glancing at the grave in front of her. Her name was carved into the grey stone.

"In loving memory - Isobel Flemming – Jan 18, 1978 ~ May 4, 2007"

Earlier on she had explained how her parents – my grandparents as she so diligently had pointed out- decided to put a gravestone there the moment it became clear the police wouldn't find her body. Apparently my grandparents visited "her spot" every week, carrying flowers with them. Why she was telling me all of this, I didn't understand.

"The human part", she finally continued, letting her words linger in the cool autumn air while looking me straight in the eyes. What was she saying? What did she mean? Why on earth were we here at this graveyard.

Let's be honest.. A graveyard isn't a place to talk with your daughter. Especially when having abandoned that daughter for the opportunity of living a vampire life.

Isobel mused while nodding to herself"The part that abandoned you when I chose to become a vampire". My gaze fluttered towards the ground which was covered in brown leaves.

Though I wouldn't admit it, I felt a lump growing in my throat. "The part that used to dream about the day that she'd know her daughter".

With confusion, I glanced up at her only to see a forlorn smile plastered on her lips. What surprised me even more was the tinge of sincerity that I heard in her voice and I could see in her eyes.

"What…?", I questioned, my voice barely audible. The woman in front of me shrugged her shoulders while stating something in a tone I couldn't quite define.

"Instead you got to meet the other part. That part… That part that would betray her own flesh and blood."

Just as I was about to ask her what she was getting at, the moment was interrupted by a soft beeping that came from her pocket.

Pulling her mobile out, she answered the call. Inhaling deeply, I turned around, unease settling in once again.

Raising my hand, I brought it to my lips – a gesture I always did when I felt nervous or when I was trying to come up with a plan.- Yes.. A plan. After all the woman standing right there, she was working together with Klaus – the man who wanted me dead.

"Yes… Let her go? ... I'm done?", Isobel's voice broke the silence. Her face nearly lit up with relief as she let out a deep sigh.

As if frozen, I stood there, meeting her gaze, my voice anxious "Who was that?", I questioned.. She didn't answer – not to that question anyways -.

"I'm so sorry, Elena", she said out of nowhere. "I was such a disappointment to you."

Pulling my eyebrows together, I angled my head, trying to read her. As I did so, I saw her reach towards her own necklace..

Only too late did I realize what she was doing. She tossed her necklace aside, I didn't even hear it fall between the leaves.

The only thing that I heard was a deafening scream from the woman standing in front of me. Her skin turning red, sizzling, quickly lighting up in flames.

My eyes turned wide, shock washing through me as the smell of burnt flesh filled my nose.

Stumbling backwards, I tripped, landing on my back. Her screaming died out soon enough.

I could hear the wind blowing, birds chirping as if nothing had happened.

They say "Absolute silence leads to sadness. It is the image of death."

Perhaps it is true. Silence is the image of death. However, how I felt inside could not be defined.

Author's note: This is a drabble I wrote to which has originally been posted on twitter for my roleplay account WittyElena.

I know it isn't much. Perhaps some of you are disappointed. I can't blame you for that. For those who did enjoy it, thanks for reading. :-) comments are always welcome.