I do not own Damon but I do own my OC. All rights reserved to L.J. Smith.
Some content in this story are from The Vampire Diaries: The Awakening Volume I (1991)
Florence, Italy 1510
They call me "spawn of the devil". Dishes, rulers, tomatoes, all thrown at me as I stepped outside
the convent to water the plants. It has been like this ever since I was a toddler. I have been told
a thousand times throughout my life that I am a mistake. I wasn't supposed to be born since my
parents were not married; that it was forbidden young love. As the objects crack on my forehead,
blood spills drastically as I re-entered the convent, greeted by a slap on the face by none other
then Sister Marguerita. "You have not finished sweeping the second floor you vermin!" she
yelled very loudly that the whole city of Florence could hear her. As I was ready to splash her
with all my force with the water pot, Sister Gabriella came just at this moment between us,
advising Sister Marguerita that the visiting nuns from Rome have just arrived at the front door.
I took that as a cue to head to my small, tope bedroom so I could clean and bandage my cuts. I
am very used to it that I do not need any assistance. Even if someone would offer help,
I will much decline since the cruelty I have suffered made me an independent survivor. But
as I brushed my wavy, strawberry blonde hair in the light of the sunset that makes my olive skin
glow, I could not help thinking what would be like if my life was different, if I was accepted in
society. All those happy thoughts turned into sad ones as I held on something precious that
makes me think otherwise: Damon Salvatore's raven feathered hat with a touch of blue on the
tips of the feathers.