This is just something that has been running through my head the last few days and I HAD to end up writing it. Rose said that after a few hundred years there is no switch. Katherine has her humanity. What was running through Katherine's head at the end of episode 09, Katerina.
Elena.
She had my face, my fire, my love, a family to love her, friends to care for her. She is, or should I say what used to be, me.
The vivid images flashed like a burning fire in my head, raging and scaling as I relived the moments in which I lost all my humanity.
The bodies were strewn across the floor, and my father was nailed to the wall by a sword. It ran through his heart. No matter how cold and cruel he seemed, even if he banished me, he was my father; the man who carried me on his shoulder when we used to go picking daisies in the grove behind the house. This was the man who would sing me to sleep once more, after a frightful nightmare. I could never despise him; I have tried but never reached success.
My eyes scanned the rest of the room and finally found the image of my mother.
"No!", I cried running to her side.
"No, no, mamma!"
Strangled sobs tore from my throat.
He had killed them. Klaus had killed them all. My entire family, my humanity.
Her face was so empty. It had lost its warmth and compassion that used to reside there. It was cold and unfeeling, just like my non beating heart.
I would remember on fine summer mornings, how she would bustle to and fro preparing the house for special occasions. The sun would bounce off her hair causing it to form a visible aura around her body. She would hug me close to her, just saying my name, repeatedly: "Katerina, Katerina, Katerina."
My mother was my humanity in life. People find humanity in different people. For Stefan, he found it in that excuse for a vampire, Lexi; Caroline, in Matt; and for Damon, he found it in my doomed doppelganger.
I sat in the tomb on the pile of linens Elena had brought for me, reading my family history. Great Grandfather, Grandfather, Father, all was in there. Reading about their lives was like a splinter of wood in my finger, excruciatingly awful.
I turned the page and a drawing of my family caught my eye.
I was eleven when this was sketched. Father had planned a surprise picnic for mother and me. It was spring time and I remember frolicking in the fields of flowers that surrounded everything in a blanket. The sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. A gentle smile graced my face.
I slowly diverted my gaze from my father's face to eventually capture that of my mother's. my fingers caressed the picture.
I love you mamma. I am sorry I was a disgrace to you. I am sorry I brought about your death for my foolishness. I could not sacrifice my life, but you sacrificed yours for me, for that I am sorry.
I am sorry. I love you.
Unshed tears welled up in my eyes as my heart broke into a million tiny pieces. The sea that had been dammed for centuries finally burst though with a ferocity and passion, and I was reduced to a hollow soul.
Elena had everything, and I was gone.
