Maybe she was useless. She couldn't ever save anyone, be strong or clever like Elena and Meredith. And worst of all, because she was so weak, so stupid, she had gotten Damon killed.
Damon.
Strong, clever, handsome Damon.
She thought he'd always live forever, and ever..
But she got him killed. Just by..being herself.
Bonnie gave a tiny, choked sob.
Oh how she wished she hadn't started to climb that tree! How she had waited for Elena, or Stefan to tell her what to do! How she wished that with all her might that she had a chance to hold that little boy once.
She wished so much.. So, so much.
A single tear fell from eyes onto her hand.
The little boy had called her 'smart' and 'nice', words that made it her hurt even more. Right there inside of her heart. How could she be any of those things?
Slowly, the little redhead opened her eyes and looked down at her hands.
She wasn't any of those things, yes, but she was a murderer.
She, Bonnie McCullough, had killed Damon Salvatore all by herself.
Even her hands usually ice-cold and shock-white were pink and throbbing with heated blood inside them.
Bonnie had heard somewhere that guilty people always saw blood and stuff like that on themselves.
"I am a murderer," she murmured her eyes overwhelming with tears, blurring her vision.