AN: Me again! Back with more depressing stuff. Does anyone miss Bonnie? I know I do! Anyway let me stop talking so you can read.
Song: Whisper- Dave Baxter (put it on repeat, in case you didn't last time because I doubt it.)
Don't fight it ok? The music will make this sooo much better. Hell it made me bawl my eyes out while I was writing this so it's good enough for you to read it to. Just don't read it out loud because I did that and I think I heard my soul rip in half. Ugh, I cry.
I surveyed the damage that night after everyone had cried themselves to sleep: Elena on the couch hugged up to a blanket she said smelled like Bonnie, Vampire Barbie on the other sectional clutching an album filled with pictures of them together, Bus boy laid out on the floor in front of the fireplace mumbling about nicknames and Jeremy in his room whispering something to the air like he always does. They all looked broken, a bunch of kids who had been broken by their stay in Mystic Falls. The only person missing was...
Bonnie.
I grabbed my keys from the side table by the door and looked one last time at the living room. I needed to get out of here. Now. I didn't care where, I just couldn't stomach being so close to so much sadness. What I could stomach was being alone with my own.
My camaro had seen almost every part of the world, sometimes with just me and other times I had the privilege of having extremely beautiful company. Good times. We'd been through a lot together. This car was the closest thing I had to a parent-child relationship.
I'd never wanted kids and didn't think twice when I found out vampires couldn't have them. A reprieve I was grateful for. On the first part of the drive, when I found myself thinking about Bonnie, I wondered if she ever wanted children. She would have been an amazing mom.
I kept driving going nowhere in particular, just liking the feeling of constantly moving. I had already drained the two bottles of bourbon I brought with me, so I didn't really need to drink anytime soon. This left me with time to let my mind wander. So I rolled my window down and listened to life passing by as I began to think of the one person who would never get to live it again.
Bonnie.
I thought back to the first time I had met her. I remembered thinking she looked a whole hell of a lot like Emily when she was younger. Same toffee skin tone, same circular face shape, same sculpted jaw line, same curly dark hair and same exact height. I also noticed that same internal fire in her that Emily had, but I didn't know if Bonnie was aware of it. I would later come to the realization she had no idea.
"Dammit Bonnie," I sighed. "What...happened?"
I ran a hand over my face and kept one on the wheel while thoughts of everybody's favorite Bennett witch flooded my head. I suddenly remembered every moment we had together.
I remembered that she had a habit of picking at her nails when she was bored and paced when she was nervous. I found that out one afternoon at the boarding house when we were waiting for Abby to show up.
I remembered that she always gave you all of her attention when you talked regardless of her personal interest. This I unearthed the night I interrupted her make-out session with what's-his-face in Alaric's classroom. Amateurs. I knew she was pissed at me, I could feel it rolling off her in waves, but she listened anyway.
I smirked when I remembered that I had always known when she was about to give me an aneurism. Though I would never tell her this I figured out at a Lockwood party; she could never execute the spell necessary with her mouth closed. Newbie
I remembered the late nights in my library where she would fight sleep pouring over ancient books trying to help her friends escape death. These nights, when it was just the two of us, I had discovered that she could sing. She would flip through pages like her life depended on it and when she was comfortable with what she found she would hum. Looking back I guess it helped with her concentration because she never looked up from her research as she serenaded herself toward the answers she wanted. Her voice was nice from what I could hear but if I wasn't a vampire, I wouldn't know that. She never gave me the satisfaction.
Mainly I remembered how she never appeared to me to be an eighteen year old girl because she had the soul of a woman three times her age.
I saw it that night at the 1960's dance when she had decided she would use herself as a defense strategy to save Team Mystic Falls. She was scared, I could tell by the way her heart was beating when I danced with her. She was actually kind of good. I hadn't danced like that in years. So when she'd told me she was going through with it even though I could feel how terrified she was, I knew Bonnie Bennett wasn't like anyone I had ever met. There will never be anyone like her again. So I came up with an exit plan I knew she would have to take. She didn't deserve to die that night and she didn't deserve it now.
A street light broke my train of thought as I looked at the speedometer. I was going 120 mph and didn't even notice. The darkness of the night was lifting slowly and the sky had turned from its usual coal to deep blue. I had been thinking too much. I looked over to the passenger seat.
"Fuck." I already drank them.
Clutching the steering wheel tighter, I continued driving. There were rows of trees, asphalt and the smell of cheap gasoline wafting through the air. I liked it this way. It was quiet, just quiet enough for the reality to set in and quiet just enough for me to try to get used to it.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, my body had been on autopilot for a while. It was attempting to desensitize itself to the news of losing yet another person I'd never get back. Never thought I'd add her to that list.
I didn't notice the left turn on Grove street. I didn't notice the change the tires made as they crossed over cobblestone. I didn't even notice the pale blue of the sky lighting the way up the path. Never noticed the mailbox overflowing with envelopes. Never noticed the porch light was still on.
I did notice that this wasn't my house.