She wishes she wasn't bitter.
But she kind of is.
She stews in self-pity on Stefan's bathroom floor, twisting her hair and trying not to cry. She wanted Stefan to save Matt. She really did. But she didn't think this would happen. She didn't think she would have this thing, this curse placed upon her. And that's what it is.
A curse.
She never said so to anyone, but she always secretly thought it. She always despised the very idea of it. She was open-minded, sure. She didn't stop loving someone just because they happened to be what they were, but she never wanted it.
Not even a little.
Over the months she had made peace with her death. She figured she couldn't dodge the bullet forever. She couldn't keep running from Death without him eventually catching up to her. She knew all this.
Yet she kept going with it.
She kept putting herself in these ridiculous situations where she felt the compulsive need to save everyone while placing her own neck in the noose. It was a sickness really. She knew she shouldn't do it. The voice in the back of her head always screamed at her to stop, but she couldn't… or wouldn't.
She never did figure out which.
Now the death she had so strongly accepted as inevitable - something that would happen sooner rather than later - is completely out of reach. She should have kept her mouth shut and refused the blood Damon offered. She should have just accepted the death that was presented to her on a silver platter.
But that ship has sailed.
Yeah, she could stake herself. She could once again throw herself into the minefield, but it wouldn't have the same impact now. It wouldn't be as tragic.
Or as easy.
Sacrificing one's self is not part of the vampire modus operandi. Not even close. Now she has to face an eternity of hunger, homicidal tendencies, and the knowledge that she may have turned into her worst nightmare.
Katherine.
This is when she begins to cry.
She wants to make them proud.
Each one of them has their own idea of what she needs.
Stefan wants her to essentially be his version of a vegetarian. Nothing human. Only bunnies and squirrels. The occasional deer.
Damon hands her bags of human blood, warming it up in mugs like tea, sipping it with her at the kitchen table like it was an innocent Sunday. Pancakes and bacon on the side.
Caroline lies in the middle. She's not adverse to animals in a pinch, but a girl can't live on squirrel alone, right?
They pull her in different directions, and she's confused. She doesn't know which path to follow, what opinion to trust.
She hates to disappoint.
She misses her bed. She's stuck in the boarding house until she can get her act together. She wanders the halls, exploring long forgotten rooms, napping on sheet covered furniture and ignoring the plumes of dust. They try to coax her out, but she can't be bothered.
She feels sick all the time now. Her skin burns to the point where she believes that she is engulfed in flames. While sleeping she dreams of lakes of fire, of living in hell. Gold is offered to the ferryman, bribes for safe passage across the River Styx.
She always awakes in a panic, fearing the realness of it all. She knows the brothers hear her cries. They're too afraid to touch her.
They don't want to burn.
The air feels good on her skin. After weeks of being cocooned, they allow her to emerge. But she's no butterfly. She's skinny and pale and worn thin.
She hasn't adapted well despite their claims. They can't even look her in the eye. She sits alone along a stream in the woods far away from them and their encouraging words. She couldn't bear another lie.
She closes her eyes and wishes she would disappear.
She lives on the other side of the globe. Thousands of miles away from the Salvatore brothers and their destructive path. She lives alone on a tiny island in Polynesia.
She has no friends. No way to be contacted. She wants to forget and to be forgotten. She came here to fade away.
The locals fear her. Not because they know what she is – although that could be a part of it – but because she looks wild. She walks barefoot and speaks to herself while in the market. They think she's insane.
Her life is simple and quite empty.
She loves it.