here's to longer chapter!
also i changed elena's birth date from june 22nd (canon) to december 3rd.
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There were rules she'd dictated for herself long ago—as in, so long that it was actually on her past life—and they didn't change even through this new life. Her name, face, identity might change, but inside she was still her.
She called them Guide and Tutorials on How To Live Live For Dummies and Newbies.
Or for short: Life Tutorials.
When she was 11 on Before, she was a cute kid. Good, helpful, obedient—she was your typical scout girl. Then one day, she wondered to a cliff on the south of her town, watching the sea churned and nature working it best from the rocks—and, somehow, fell.
Now, naturally a normal person would freak out, right? Not her. She was shocked, sure—but it was as if the thrill she felt, along with the cold wind and even colder seawater woke her up. Like she'd been living with her eyes closed her whole life.
It was the moment that changed her forever.
Ever since that, she started to go out more. Socializing soon enough became a natural thing, and she had adventures everyday. From the smallest thing like trying out a strange candy flavor to skydiving—she'd done it all. There were just no days without something to experiment on, to be excited about. People often commented how free she was or how jealous they were. She seemed to be the epitome of freedom—nothing could control nor deter her.
Whenever someone asked how she did it, she always said, "I just let go of everything that weight me."
A free spirit, indeed.
And this free spirit would forever be one.
And so, the now-Elena decided to start showing everyone her true side—by sneaking away. She tugged the rope that was tied to her window sill, and found it tied tight and firm. After a confirmation glance to the closed door, she climbed the window sill, and started climbing down carefully.
It was still early in the morning, and the sun had just risen, so everyone would most likely still sleeping, including the neighbours. No one would realize what she'd done until it was too late—
Unfortunately, she'd forgotten about her doctor father and his sporadic schedule.
As soon as her eyes met the blues of Grayson, she quickly slided down the rope, ignoring the burns on her palms. As she expected, a few seconds later her father had realized it wasn't a hallucination and had ran out the door with a strangled shout of her name.
Elena booked it out there as fast as her short legs allowed, the yells of her father echoing behind her.
Rule number one: No Regrets.
Fifteen minutes later found her in the Mystic Grill (a totally cliche name, for the record, but she didn't know any other places that had food), waiting for her order of vanilla milkshakes and chicken wings. Had to make up for the burnt callories somehow.
Swinging her legs on one of the corner booths, she observed the people around her. It was barely 7 in the morning, so the people there were mostly adults about to head off for work. Drinking coffee, typing at their phones, reading newspapers—yada, yada, yada. It was all boring things—
Except that little family sitting on the other side of the restaurant.
A busgirl (who she assumed was the mother considering the resemblances were uncanny) was talking and scolding her kids who were eating on the table, snapping something that made the boy's face fell. The girl, seeing this, scowled at her mother and snipped something back. Mother hit her palm on the desk so that the sound rang across the whole room and walked away with clearly hurt dignity.
People watched the scene with distaste clear to the mother, but did nothing else. They gone back to their own businesses as soon as the busgirl was out of sight.
Oh, how she despised people like that the most.
With a sigh, Elena got out of her seat and walked toward them. "Hello," she said, shamelessly sliding to the seat next to the boy.
Upon closer look, she realized that the girl was older than her and the boy by a few years. She was a brunette with long hair that curled naturally on the ends, and a pair of eyes that resembled the hot chocolate with honey she once tried on. The boy, however, had dirty blonde hair that spiked on the ends and blue eyes. The girl, clearly, was the busgirl's daughter. Their resemblances were there though, with their matching cheekbones and nose and even eyebrows. Other than that, they might as well be strangers.
The girl sent her a wary look and snapped, "what do you want?" Her honey-brown eyes sent daggers to her, ignoring the hissed reprimand of, "Vicki!"
Elena smiled sheepishly. "I was kinda lonely sitting alone, and everyone else was being adult—so, I want to ask if I could sit here?"
"Shouldn't you ask before sitting down?" Vicki scowled.
"What do you mean by 'being adult'?" Her little brother asked, clear blue eyes curiously scanned her face. Reluctantly, Vicki waited for the answer.
"They were doing borish things only adults do, like reading newspaper and all those things." She wrinkled her nose.
"You said that as if you aren't going to be like that." Vicki pointed out.
"Nope! I might get old and wrinkly but I'd rather shoot myself than be an adult." She giggled. Vicki and Matt gave her a matching frown, and there goes the doubt about their sibling relation.
Here, she gave them a mysterious smile, as if she was about to share the secret of the world. "Being adult and being mature are very different things. Once you grow up, you'll see."
"You're the same age as Mattie." Vicki deadpanned.
"You acted like a grown up." Mattie stated.
"But I'm not boring like the adults, right?" She asked joyfully, and he nodded. "You got it, Mattie!"
"Don't call me that!" He blushed to the leaves of his ears, throwing a napkin to the crackling figure of his sister. "It's Matt, not Mattie."
"Or Matthew." Vicki snickered. "I'm Vicki Donovan."
"Victoria—"
"Shut up, you!" The napkin was thrown again.
"Right, pleasure meeting you! I'm Elena Gilbert, wished it was short for Elenore or Eleanor or something like that but it isn't. Feel free to call me whatever." She eye-smiled.
Once again, the Donovan siblings sent her a look that obviously said how weird she was. But they didn't comment on it. "Right..." Vicki drawled, "I'mma dubbed you 'Weirdo' from now on."
"Just ignore her, she doesn't go out of the house much." Matt said. "Can I call you Lena?"
"Su—"
"Elena. Angeline. Gilbert." A very, very familiar voice called out from the door. Her body froze up. She had the feeling that this might be the last time she saw the siblings for a lengthy period.
"Farewell." She whispered to the two, still frozen. She wasn't brave enough to look at the mad, mad figure of her mom.
"There you are, darling." Sugar dripped off Miranda's voice, and it served to make her scared even more. That was the tone when she got really angry—and Elena had only heard it used once in her seven years of (second) living. "I've been searching for you everywhere. Time to go home."
Elena sent the Donovan siblings a betrayed look when they only smiled fearfully at the raging mother, casting her a pitying look and even dared to waved at her. Oh, she changed her mind. They weren't interesting anymore. As soon as she get out—
"Stop whatever it is you're planning, Elena, because you're not going to have the chance to do it." Her mother said casually while still dragging her by an ear. "Oh, here's for the bill, Mr. Peterson. I'm sorry for the trouble my daughter brought."
"No problem at all, Mrs. Gilbert!" Was the last thing she heard before they got out of the Grill.
Her stomach growled.
"You—" Miranda's smile could've cut with how sharp it was, "—are grounded, young lady. For life."
She should've raided the fridge before escaping, next time.
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Elena yawned for the hundred time of the day.
She couldn't help it—she was so bored she'd started to sing all the songs she knew loudly and mentally, even the horrible ones. No doubt that everyone's ears suffered from that, but it wasn't her fault anyway. Anyone would get bored after being confined to the house for two weeks.
True to her words, Miranda and Grayson had grounded her since that sunday. She was forced to stay inside the house 24/7, with the exception of school. Even then, they didn't give her a reprieve by arriving there even before the bell rung. It was embarassing—everyone in town had known by now about the little mischief act Elena Gilbert had committed.
All the windows and door were locked so she couldn't sneak out again. Laptops and games were off limits so there were only books and TV for her entertainment. She was even forbidden to see Caroline and Bonnie outside of school, though reluctantly she admit it was a good choice. They knew she was the captain of their little group and that they would only make chaos.
The confinement wasn't the worst thing she'd undergone, if you looked back to her life as Alexis. Back then, her father had been a military man and so the rules of the house were strict. In this life, it was clear how Miranda and Grayson had freaked out at her little 'rebelious' act, and how they decided to take precaution in case she was about to start become a punk girl—or maybe one of those outlaws. Either way, it seemed like a normal thing to do since she was their first child (and daughter).
And so, Elena Angeline Gilbert bravely endured the boring hours by herself.
'By herself', because she'd found out that Jeremy wasn't a friend anymore. As soon as her first escape attempt was done, her little brother had reprimanded her with cute irresistible voice, "That's not a good thing to do, Lena. I'm going to tell Mom if you did it again."
And then gave her a mischievous smile and jutted out his tongue.
'Till now, Elena was still seriously considering that maybe her cute little brother that'd adored her was somehow switched with the little devil that now adorned the halls of their house.
Good news was: she'd started to pick up drawing again.
When she was Alexis, she'd loved to draw. To her, drawing was like doing challenging sports—it was freeing. When her legs stayed still, her mind got poured to a blank canvas. She got absorbed so much that sometimes she'd spent half a day on drawing without realizing. She'd considered drawing again when she was still a toddler, but her hands had been too stiff back then. Thank God there were still some left equipments from the time Aunt Jenna had tried to be an artist.
And, oh, how blissful she felt when she finally drew again. Her drawings might not be good, but she was relieved for the feelings she let out through them. She couldn't wait until she got her fingers used to it—then, perhaps she could asked for colouring tools.
Elena yawned again.
"I think that's the thirty-third time." Jeremy said.
She startled, and turned to the door where her five years old brother stood. Since when had he been there?
The brunette boy jumped to one of her bean bag sofa, ignoring the grumpy look she sent him. "What are you doing?" He asked.
"Sitting." She deadpanned.
He pouted. "I'm bored, sis. Can't we do something together?"
"What do you want to do, Jer?" She raised an eyebrow. Petty grudges could get a hiatus in the name of erasing her boredom.
Jerry looked around her pastel pink bedroom, almond brown darting left to right and back again. He hopped out, snatched a sketch book she'd left lying on the table, and started to examined it curiously.
"What's this, sis?"
"Aunt Jenna's old sketchbook. It was mostly empty so I drew on it." She told him.
She hummed "High Hopes" by Panic! At The Disco absentmindedly for a few seconds, before the silence from Jerry's part hit her. She turned to him with a wary look, and sighed mentally at the excited face he had on.
If there was one thing she knew about her little brother, it was that his excitement brought nothing good.
"How about you teach me how to draw?" He asked, and she sighed audibly.
Well, at least she wouldn't be bored anymore...?
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(November 20th, 2000.)
Day 45 of my horrible confinement;
Dear Diary, I think I might be losing my mind. No, I know I am. Beside the obvious fact that this whole grounded thing is getting old real fast, I'm also started to feel this itching feeling of wanting to run.
No, not because of the whole thing itself, but more because of the helion they call my little brother.
You see (hear? read??), I've started teaching Jeremy how to draw since about two weeks ago, and I. Regret. It.. The little helion had somehow took my crayons (that I begged my parents for for days) and drew on the floor, cabinets, walls, and even the ceilings. Dunno how he did the last one, but I got blamed for them and now my punishment become longer.
In the deepest corner of my heart though, I feel proud. BUT NO WAY IN HELL AM I TELLING HIM THAT.
That's all that I wanna say. I couldn't stand writing too much. This is my first entry and I don't think I like doing this very much so it might be the last.
Ciayo! Don't get too surprised if this book got turned into a drawing book ;) lol!
Elena Gilbert: out!
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If she ever thought of her (second-life) parents as kind or nice or easy, well, she wholeheartedly regretted it. Because jokes on her. Both Miranda and Grayson Gilbert were incredibly stubborn and she just dreaded the upcoming days where Jeremy might inherited it.
It had been nearly two months, and they were showing no signs of stopping her grounded status.
Seriously, it started to feel like she was in a relationship. With her house. Which was a big no-no to an extrovert like her—she was dying. And goddamn it, she's not exaggerating! It felt like years since she last walk outside by herself. Even Jeremy had started to get uneasy about it.
She was starting to get really desperate. About a week ago, she'd thrown all the dignity she had (what's dignity again?) out the window (that remained locked until now). Begging, sucking up, pitiful acting, sobbing—you name it, she did it. And there were absolutely no visible results.
Who said she was a free spirit again?
She didn't regret sneaking out, though—No Regrets was practically the first rule of the book—and she would do it again. She just had to do it much more carefully, ease them to the idea slowly.
Ah, imagination. Her old friend.
Elena sighed, hugging one of her bolster tight. Today was sunday the 30th, so no family time until next week. That marked it as another boring, boring day.
Now, let's see what she could do... Teaching Jeremy, drawing, reading books, watching TV, doing another experiment on the kitchen, drawing, teaching Jerry—
"Elena, come down for a second!" Her father yelled, and she sat up straight. "I know you're awake!"
Huh? Confused, she went downstairs with a hand fixing her messy hair, wondering what it was about. She didn't do anything recently, did she?
Her eyes widened mid-step on the stairs. Have they finally decided she wasn't grounded anymore?!
In true seven-year-old fashion, she ran the rest of the way. Her smile was the biggest since months ago and her heart was full of hope. Finally, finally! Her brain screamed in utter joy.
"You're still grounded." was the first thing that was said to her once she entered the kitchen, and her face fell comically.
Everyone there—her parents and Uncle John is here!—smiled at the face she made. She grumbled to herself, that wasn't funny at all. I really thought I was going to finally get free...
"But—as an appreciation to your good attitude lately—your father and I decided to let your Uncle give his birthday present early." Her mom's lips curled upward at the mixture of confused and suspicious face she made. "Not saying you won't continue your grounded status after, of course."
After what?
Warily, she turned to her birth father, and tried to not stared at the expression he made. John Gilbert was smiling easily—the curls at his lips that was slightly lopsided, the dimples, the way his eyes smiled too, and it was as if he was about to spread mischief without being obvious about it.
Every single detail of his expression was what she would found on the photographs of herself.
"You get to have a full week with your favorite uncle! I promise it's not as horrifying as it sounds." He joked.
Unwillingly, tears started to fall down her cheeks. A full week with only the two of them? That sounded perfect.
"Elena?! Um, I can just give you another present—"
She cut him off with a hug attack, and he easily caught her in his hold, a warm hand rubbing her back. It felt like she was being swallowed in a warm, comforting oversized blanket, and it made her sobbed harder.
"N-no! I'm just happy." She said between taking breaths.
It was going to be the best present in her whole life—she just knew it.
Unknown to her, John'd glared at the couple when she hugged him, eyes full of judgment and if looks could kill, they would be dead on the ground. Miranda and Grayson exchanged guilty looks at the sound of heavy sobbing their daughter let out—thinking that maybe, she got so emotional and relieved because they'd went too far on the grounding business.
Elena Gilbert didn't know it back then, but when she came home a week later, she would be pleasantly surprised.
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Elena smiled to herself as she walked on grey paved street road, a sweet iced tea in a hand. She pouted at the reminder, and shook the plastic cup in disappointment. She'd liked to try a mojito or cuba libre that she read was popular here, but she wasn't of age yet. Maybe she should move to De Jure—wherever that was, at least she could have a beer there when she reached 16.
Florida was a nice state, even though the oceans were off limits since it was winter. Going to a beach without tanning and playing in warm water got boring real fast. But overall, she was happy. She'd been in a bliss since the little vacation started.
John had brought her to Tallahassee, the capital city of Florida. It was a busy, populated city that was mostly used as a trade center. She'd seen business people in passing and there were too many foreign people and markets to count. Her birth father had told her it was currently the main trade city of America, rivalling New York City whose reputation was more headed to tourism. Seeing such place after nearly eight years living in a small quiet town had been fascinating.
The two of them had eat from restaurants to restaurants, bravely trying local cuisines (the frog dishes were awful) with her staring at John's alcoholic beverages with jealousy, touring the town randomly with no clear plans (that got them lost more than once), and buying things that interested them as souvenirs.
She'd never seen him smiling as much as he did these past few days.
Fifth day of their little escapade, John had let her off by herself with a brand new phone ("It was supposed to be your birthday present, but I didn't want you to get lost. Happy early birthday, princess."), a pocket full of money, and lingering looks. He himself had a business with a friend. Thus why she ended up city watching by herself.
She couldn't stop walking even though her feet had started to ache because, hello, she'd seen little else than school and house for two months and now that she had her freedom back—she was like a fish to water. She sincerely didn't mind walking mindlessly for hours amidst an unknown city between strangers.
With a serene face, she took a turn to a dark alley, and dropped her tea in the middle of said alley. A few seconds later, someone walked into the alley and started to slipped from the tea.
She mercilessly kick him on the groin.
"Aaarrghh!" He groaned out, half-angry half-pained. She sent a punch to his face and gasped when he took her fist on his. He looked up, eyes peeking from the shadows that befall the rest of his face—she struggled to get away with no results.
Her heart beat so loudly she was sure he heard it too.
Instead of white, his scleras were pitch black, outlining the black orbs. She bet that if they weren't in the dark, she would've seen black veins around the eyes as well.
A vampire.
"Now, now, little girl." He whispered, and gave her a smile of elongated fangs and plastic. "You're quite the stupid one, yes?"
"Let me go!" She growled, trying not to panic. "Help! Hel—" She choked when the hand on her throat tightened, cutting off her oxygen supplies. Her hands tore the pale one fruitlessly.
He licked his lips. "You're going to be a treat, and little girls are my favorite. Now, any last words?"
She wheezed, her lungs desperately searching for air that wasn't given to her by the vampire holding her, legs kicking the air. She didn't care for the scratches she made from struggling on the rough bricks, nor the advancing face of the vampire. All her body and brain demanded was air, air, air—
The hand loosened, and she fell to the ground.
Frantically, she drew gasps of air until her lungs were satisfied, and opened her eyes to red.
Scarlet red—the colour of the blood that the vampire oozed out of his chest, and there was also a tip peeking out of the wound, something similar to wood. Didn't the Story told of how a stake to the heart would kill a vampire?
"Father?" She gasped, looking up in relief.
But John was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a teenager standing with harsh breathing, a palm bloodied and face something tense that had her heart clenched, fear instantly forgotten.
"Who... are you?" Her voice was barely a whisper. Somehow, it carried through.
"Mason Lockwood." He answered, looking down to her and something in his eyes softened, and her heart skipped a beat. "Are you okay?"
The busy life of the city quietened down in the face of her heart's frantic beatings, as she continued to gape like an idiot.
Mason Lockwood was her saviour.
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Regardless of the cringy (one-sided) moment she and Mason had back on the alleyway, she didn't made a stupid move and just trust him on the spot like that. It was only after confiming that he is, indeed, the younger brother to Mayor Lockwood of Mystic Falls and the close friend of her Aunt Jenna—and the very canon character of the Story—that she gave him her hotel address.
"Why are you in Florida?" Elena broke the awkward silence. "I mean, Aunt Jenna said you're going to the same college as her, so..."
"Yeah," he cleared his throat, "I'm just taking a little vacation after all the hectic at the university. Didn't expect to see Jenna's little niece here."
"I'm on a week-long vacation with Uncle John." She told him. "For an early birthday present, you know? It's my fifth day here."
He nodded, and there was another moment of silence.
"What was that... back on the alley?" She asked carefully, her chocolate eyes scouring the face of Mason Lockwood. He looked so much younger than she remembered, her boyish charm still remained. His brown-blond hair was styled messy, and his eyes reminded her of Tyler so much. He couldn't be older than 21 at least.
"Don't yell or anything, but..." He gave her a wary look. "I think he is—was—a vampire. His freaky eyes with the whole vein things, fangs—he kinda fit the description of the myth my father used to tell for my bedtime story."
"A... vampire." She mumbled to herself.
Sure, she figured she couldn't avoid the whole trainwreck that was Canon considering her doppelganger status, but she thought she had a decade left. She thought Stefan Salvatore's arrival would be the key to the gate.
She forgot, how Murphy Law worked.
Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
Shit, she hoped she hadn't messed anything up too much.
Wait. Wasn't the Lockwood family a werewolf one? And if she wasn't mistaken, killing someone was the key to unlocking that particular supernatural gene.
Does killing a vampire count?
Sure hope it doesn't.
"Are you going to freak?" Mason prodded her side carefully, watching her as if she was about to burst.
"No. But..." She pursed her lips.
"What will we say to my Uncle?"
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word count: 4403
wow, three (four?) more canon characters appeared! just to say, none of this are planned, my fingers had a habit of writing whatever comes to mind. for example, that vampire wasn't supposed to attack Elena, also it was supposed to be Slater.
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cas xxx