This is what Stefan wrote in his journal after Season 5 Episode 15 when he stabbed Katherine with a traveler's knife and killed her.
I wasn't sure if using her daughter as a pawn would work. But it did. It lured her to us, and we got her. What she did to her daughter, however, after she saw her, was not what I would have imagined in a thousand years.
She made Nadia dream of how their life should have been like. She held her daughter in such a tenderness that warmed my heart. Had it been just a few weeks ago, when I thought that she was really dying and that I did the same thing to her—made her dream of how her perfect life should have been like?
Tears streamed down her face, and I couldn't help but wish for a moment that she wasn't possessing Elena's body, so that we—I—didn't have to kill her.
She told me that she loved me, and I truly believe that she thought so; but her idea of love is certainly unlike my idea of love, because I know that whenever I look at Elena, the thought of any harm besetting her overwhelms me to the point where it is almost unbearable. Katherine would do anything to be loved back, even if it meant wounding the one she loves to the core. She was too possessive, too selfish, too broken and too damaged to have a love that was unwavering, raw and pure.
And yet, every time that I was convinced Katherine had done the unforgivable, she did something humane, and it would be as if I could see right through her.
She kissed me goodbye and I stabbed—killed—her, and her shocked gasp made my throat tighten. My mind reeled back to when I did the same thing to her two years ago—I injected her with vervain when we kissed. The strange familiarity of the sound of her gasp is laughable and agonizing at the same time. "I guess this is how our love story ends," was her last words. Something about that bothered me so much, and I yearned to say, not just your—our—love story, but also how it your life ends, but I didn't, because the words wouldn't come.
As she sank to the floor, a sudden revelation hit me.
Katherine stays, even when she has left.
When she leaves, she will always leave a mark. She can never truly leave a place, a person or even life. It's one of the most wondrous things about her. Even in death, her presence lingers everywhere. I see her in the corner of my eye. I see her in every memory of my life. I see her in every single person I love. She steered the lives of everyone I knew.
Now she is to be remembered as nothing more than a dead villain, and that her death marks everyone's victory. But she is not my victory.
I didn't win nor gain anything. There is only loss, regret, disappointment, fury. To me, she was a tragic mishap, a catastrophic woe.
But never victory.
What do you think? Was it too cheesy? Review please if you want me to make another chapter about his thoughts (on other events besides this, of course). Thank you for reading!