Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
~Edgar Allan Poe
Ka-sssh .
The little pills were carried down in a swirl, and I made sure to watch them vanish down the pipe before closing the toilet lid down, then releasing a short sigh. I ran the faucet and washed my hands, cupping the water afterwards to splash it over my face. It was cold, refreshing enough to stir me from my sluggish daze, but not enough to calm me.
My heart beat a little harder than normal, fuzzy thoughts of anxiety piling in my head. I couldn't swat them no matter how many times I told myself 'it will be fine' over and over, nor the sinking feeling in my stomach.
Glancing at the heavy bags under my eyes, I looked at my… sister's makeup set on the sink side, and picked up the concealer, fidgeting with it.
Just… get through today .
I popped the top off the concealer, bringing it to my face.
Two months, since I took the place of my doppelganger. Two months, since I had my public psychotic break... since I had realised where I was, and when I was. My life was stolen away from me. I had screamed, kicked, and accused people of kidnapping me. I'd eventually concluded I'm either strongly delusional or right and I wasn't sure which one was more terrifying.
"Saaam." My… Sister, Ashley, called through the door, racking her knuckles against the wood. I put the concealer down. "How long are you gonna be? You're not the only one in this house you know!"
I cleared my throat, and used the pad of my finger to smudge and blend the makeup into my skin. "Just a minute."
"Okay but we both know your minute can be just a minute, or an hour ... or a day ." She muttered the last bit, I almost didn't hear it. It was startling, to say the least, that someone I hadn't known long knew me so well.
"A minute ." I reaffirmed, but doubted she believed me anyway.
There was something unintelligible mumbled, and fading footsteps. Satisfied when I looked somewhat presentable, I put her concealer away and let out another heavy breath before leaving the bathroom.
Ashley was sitting in the corridor, back against the wall and arms lazily resting on her knees as she checked her phone and clicked the keys at lightning speed. She saw me come out, and got to her feet, impatiently moving passed me in a blonde blur.
My bedroom door was ajar, and I made sure to shut it behind me as I walked back in. My head and my back pressed to the cold, unfamiliar wood. My eyes fixated on the picture placed on … 'my' desk.
Dizzying, surreal waves of Deja vu hit me.
I remembered the time the picture was taken, we were at Epsom, in a park. I remembered being stubborn and wanting to get out of the house, struck by a constant and awful boredom that lingered like a bad cold. She agreed to take me. She called her boyfriend and he picked us up. I remembered him flipping us the finger behind the camera. I remembered it.
I remembered something that never happened .
In the photo, my leg was in a thick cast, vague flashes of a car accident went through my mind. Unfamiliar memories that can't- shouldn't - have been there.
For a couple months my own mind had been fighting itself, struggling to believe which batch of memories were true and which were imposters. My name was Samara Clarke. True. I turned twenty last year. True. My mother abandoned my sister and I at the age of fifteen- false . That was false. Apparently I'm 17 . Also false, but I didn't know how to test a biological clock and prove it.
I glanced at my bare arm, where a small burn scar should've been there and wasn't.
Everything I looked at, touched and smelled seemed to give a sense of familiarity I wasn't comfortable with.
My phone vibrated on my desk, screen lighting up. I ignored it.
I wasn't supposed to be here.
Another buzz got my attention. My eyes flickered to the HTC. A brand for a phone company I hadn't used since 2009. Which is what every calendar and news station told me. 2009 . It wouldn't quite sink in, that not only had I been placed in another person's life, but I'd somehow time travelled . Every scientist at NASA would've been ecstatic and demanded to know how I'd accomplished such a feat. I wished I could tell them, and fucking reverse it.
Either that, or I really was insane. I'd be a fascinating test subject for anyone with a doctorate in psychology.
God . I thought for the millionth time, a churning began inside my stomach. A spot behind my left eye started to throb. I'm crazy .
When the phone shook against the wood again, I let out a sharp sigh and picked it up, entering the passcode I shouldn't automatically have in my muscle memory.
'You ready?' is the first text that comes up, then, ' u gonna be late ' and ' hurry up ' followed by multiple, impatient question marks.
They were all collectively from my sister and Hilde, our guardian, who was downstairs. I pocketed my phone, grabbed my jacket and opened my door. A strong brew of coffee immediately wafted to my nose.
"You're gonna be late! Hurry up!"
It was weird to go from having a mother that finally let you have your independence, to a coddling guardian who wouldn't leave you alone. Unbearable is another term.
I blundered down the stairs, nearly tripping over one of my feet. Hilde spotted me and held out a thermos travel mug, and I could smell the lemon tea. She had her own cup in her other hand, car keys looped on her pinkie. So that's where the coffee is coming from.
"Drink on the way, where's Ashley?" She put her hand on my shoulder, guiding me out the front door, her car keys jingling in her other hand.
She gave me my thermal cup, and I sipped it, clearing my throat, trying to squash down my dread for the day. "Make-up."
"For the love of- God give me strength ." I heard her mutter and saw her turn to the stairs. " Ashley ! Come on!"
"Sam took years! " She called back, and I sheepishly made my way to Hilde's car, who looked ready to bust a blood vessel. She yelled back, but I didn't hear, already outside.
The street was quiet, with a few people outside watering their plants, kids jumping through sprinklers whilst laughing, and a guy cutting his grass with a lawnmower.
"Hell. " I uttered under my breath, wiping the back of my neck in a feeble attempt to rid the thin layer of sweat stuck to my skin. Airing out my baggy shirt, and letting out a breath as if it would help. It was too hot here. I missed the rain.
It took a bit, but they eventually came out, and Hilde was ushering us into the car quickly. I put my earphones in, listening to my mp4 player.
At least music was almost timeless. Being in 2009 was almost unbearable after having tasted the delights of future technologies. The novelty of time travel really faded fast when one didn't have the conveniences one was used to. The simple things made life tolerable. I missed my phone, my gaming computer, the slices of modern life, not being able to watch the next episode of my favourite TV show or read my favourite comic book because it didn't exist yet.
More importantly, I missed my friends and real family.
I was stuck.
Hilde was clicking her fingers in my face and I jumped, taking my earbuds out to look at her. She was focusing on driving, reaching behind her but glanced at me in the rear-view mirror when she saw she got my attention. "Did you remember your schedule?"
I nodded.
"Words, Sam."
On edge and mildly miffed, I spoke up. "Yes, it's in my bag."
"Oh? What's your first period?"
"Isn't it homeroom or something?" I mumbled.
"Yes." She gave me another uncertain look. "Are you sure you're ready, Sam?"
No. I sure as hell wasn't, but I couldn't let her know that. She would think something was wrong. She would make the therapy visits more frequent.
"I'm not going to have another mental breakdown, if that's what you mean."
"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Sam, everyone in life goes through some sort of difficult period in their lifetime-"
At this point, I sneakily put my earbuds back in, and zoned her out.
I understood she was trying to help, but I didn't like being reminded of my psychotic episode, nor did I like talking about it. I was already convinced all the screws weren't tightened enough in my brain. The last thing I needed was some kind of 'comforting' lecture about mental health.
Not to mention…
My eyes drifted outside the window, as my breath withered slightly.
High school. It seemed childish to worry about, but I was outside my comfort zone. Different country, different continent . People. Worse, bratty kids who could be nothing if not cruel. I had hopes if I kept my head down and kept quiet, they wouldn't take notice of me, or if they did, take five minutes of interest and then fuck off.
In my blanked state, I hadn't noticed we pulled up to the school until Ashley nudged me with her elbow.
"Out the way nerd." She gently pushed me forward, forcing me out of the car. My safe bubble. No .
"Have fun, you'll be fine Sam! I'll be around to pick you up later." Hilde waved us off, and pulled the car out.
I stood there, holding my thermal cup, my other hand tightly coiling around the strap of my bag. I watched as students walked to the entrance. One student was jogging, looking like he just woke up and rolled out of his bed. Another one seemed to be hurriedly tying their laces, holding some folded paper between his teeth.
"Uh, helloo?" Ashley waved in my face. "Don't be late to class, nerd. Time to go, first impressions and all that. I can't hold your hand today." Stiffly, I followed her into the building. "You're walking like a robot that hasn't been oiled in years, Sam."
"Well sorry if I'm nervous."
"Don't be nervous."
I threw her a look of disbelief. "Oh, well, my worries are cured."
"Shut up, I'm trying to be supportive."
"I know, it's just-" A few eyes darted our way. "Urgh. You can be supportive by getting me out of here. Take me home."
"You wanted to do this." She faced me, putting her hands on my shoulders to give me a more sombre expression. "It's not too late, I can tell the principal you came here too soon if you want to turn back."
I thought about it, considered my options and croaked out a conflicted groan.
"Drink your weird tea." She patted my arm, and linked them, pulling me along with her. "It might help."
I listened to her, and averted my eyes from the inquisitive stares we received. It smelt worse than my old schools. Like feet. If I had to imagine the smell of fear, I'd imagine it was that, mixed with sweat.
My tea was a little calming. I sipped more before I had the chance to scream and charge headfirst into a locker out of pure manic panic.
My mind raced, chest tinged with discomfort. Ashley squeezed my hand to reassure me, but she didn't quite understand why this was so overwhelming for me. It wasn't just the prospect of school in another country, let alone going through all the ptsd of bullying and failing grades. It wasn't just that- no.
When I first happened upon here, in Mystic Falls, my first interaction with anyone other than my guardian Hilde, was a very familiar blonde police officer.
One that shouldn't have existed.
One that led to me being prescribed antipsychotics and anti-anxiety meds with the way I reacted. It made me want the dirt to swallow me up when I thought back on it. It could have been approached with more dignity, but… well, I was sure anyone would have reacted the way I did….
Except the biting part maybe.
"No one knows who you are, just remember that." Ashley patted the back of my hand. I knew she meant well, and honestly it was nice to bond with her for the last two months, but her words just made me grimace.
I honestly zoned out the journey, and let her lead me.
Homeroom wasn't too different from what I experienced back home. It was mostly new announcements of the day, like the two new girls with foreign accents, and taking the register of who was present and who was not. Ashley and I were given two separate students as guides since we were new. Mine was more reluctant than Ashley's, he didn't even seem to care.
His name was Thomas Warren, but he wasn't happy being called that by the teacher, so when we were out of class I asked, "You want me to call you anything else?"
His eyes flickered to me, "just Tom."
There wasn't much conversation after that. He was very quiet, only talking when he had to. It was a little awkward, but I was fine with the silence. It let me focus on what I had to do today, going over my schedule about three hundred times so it would sink in. However, when I looked up to ask him something, it seemed Tom was no longer by my side.
The corridor was relatively empty, people already in their classes and some walking around to go somewhere. My stomach flipped upside down and I turned my head around, eyes darting around to spot the lanky teenager, but he either ditched me or lost sight of me.
"Shit." I raked a hand through my hair, releasing a huff.
So much for a school guide.
I held up my wrist, glancing at the watch. A few minutes late, so it wasn't that bad. I doubted they'd sanction me on my first day, especially given my… past and the fact that I was new here. It was going to be awkward to explain that I lost my guide, though. Snitching on a student my first day wasn't going to bode well.
Scrunching up the crinkled schedule into my pocket, I started walking, taking out the school map. There has to be a teacher walking around, anyway . I thought, glancing up every now and then to see if I could spot someone that appeared like an adult.
The last thing I expected when I walked around a corridor corner was to smack straight into someone. I barely registered the irritated person telling me to watch where I was going, when blurred images flickered through my mind rapidly, whispers sneaking into my ears.
Amused chuckles. Dark road surrounded by trees. Violent crunch. Car. Blood. A piercing scream.
My head hurt, it felt like electricity rushed through my blood.
What the hell was that ?
I didn't realise my ass was firmly planted on the floor until a foggy silhouette kneeled down in front of me, hand held out. It took a minute to blink out the haze and clear the images that flickered through my mind, but what I saw shocked me more than the weird vision.
A guy draped in a black hoodie with dark hair and eyes to match was staring down at me, speaking when I didn't move. "You good?"
Not again.
No. My mind screamed at me. It was like Forbes all over again. The denial, internal hysterics instead of screaming this time, dread spreading over my body like slow frost. Not again. The words kept chanting in my head.
He was starting to raise an apathetic eyebrow and leaning back, but I robotically took his hand, using it to help me to my feet.
Amused chuckles. Dark road surrounded by trees. Violent crunch. Car. Blood. A piercing scream.
I reached out to the wall when dizziness swarmed me, filling me with nausea. I could hear it as if I was there. The chuckles in my ears, the sickening crunch of breaking bones as the body hit the car. I could taste the smell of metallic blood in my mouth and feel the chilly air crawl over my arms. Goosebumps rose on the back of my neck. The screaming went through my skull.
It replayed over and over in my head.
Oh god what the hell was that?
Had my sanity finally snapped? Was I seeing things now too? What did I do to deserve hallucinations piled on my plate as well?
"You wanna go to the nurse, or something?" His voice was exactly the same. Soft spoken, low. A slither of concern crept out of the apathy.
I was handling this better than last time, and I decided to try to respond reasonably, but ended up squeaking a "no!" a bit too loudly. He jumped and held up his hands like I was about to bite his head off and I cleared my throat, correcting my tone. "I- I mean, no thanks. I'm good."
"Okaaay." He said with his hands slightly up. "Whatever dude."
He was about to leave, but I found myself calling after him. "Uh- sorry, je- wait a minute!"
He did turn himself slightly and slowed his pace, giving me a weird, but questioning look.
"I'm- I'm los t." I said, expressing a bit more of that feeling than I meant to when my voice cracked. "C-could you show me Mr. King's class?" He stopped walking, but when I saw the hesitance in his steps, I added a feeble, "Please?"
He looked like he was about to reject my request, but seemed to quietly consider something and pressed his lips together. He spoke with reluctance after giving a sharp exhale. "Yeah. Sure."
I quickly started to catch up to him but he curled an eyebrow and pointed down at my feet. I followed his gaze, then hurriedly and awkwardly fumbled picking up the couple of papers that dropped.
"T-thank you." I cleared my throat, trying to squash the mix of star struck awe and icy insecurity sensation running through my body, whilst simultaneously processing the weird vision in the back of my mind. It was a little overwhelming.
"M-my name is Sam." I said, and cleared my throat again , adding a soft, "by the way."
This is crazy.
"Jeremy." He said, a little plainly. Part of me wondered if he was helping out of obligation, or if he felt guilty for knocking me to the floor. To be fair, I wasn't watching where I was going, but maybe he thought he gave me a concussion with the way I reacted at first.
Regardless, I was grateful, if a little dazed.
This all still felt like a surreal dream, and I knew that sensation would never fully vanish for however long I was here.
After Jeremy escorted me to class the rest of my day was like a blurred dream.
I stared at my desk the entire time the first few classes, the tip of my thumbnail picking at the end of my pencil eraser. The class before lunch, I was zoning out the teacher when they started to talk about something related to the three branches of US government, eyes drifting out to the window. Leaning over the side of my desk and unzipping my bag quietly, I took out a fresh notepad not yet used and scribbled out the description of the vision, to make some sense of it.
Amused chuckles. Dark road surrounded by trees. Violent crunch. Car. Blood. A piercing scream.
The images flickered through my mind, the noises shrieking in my ears as I recalled what I saw. If it wasn't enough of a shock to literally bump into him, I finally had time to process that weird ass vision. I never had messed up clairvoyant flashes before, but I'd also never been in someone else's life either, before now that is.
It only happened when I bumped into Jeremy, I realised. Twice. The only way to test properly it was to poke him again, but how would I do that without coming across as a lunatic? How would I find him again, exactly? Did I want to?
A million questions showered my brain at once; Is the reason I'm here tied to him, or any of the 'main' people for that matter? Was my presence purely a mad twist of fate, or was I here to actually alter something? My being here in this crazy town couldn't have been a coincidence, there was no way - there was no coincidence here, not in a situation as insane as this...
It was too much to think about, even in history class.
When I raked a frustrated hand through my hair, and an earring got caught in the loose strands, I started to untangle it as other familiar faces flickered through my mind. It led to me thinking about his sister, Elena, and oh lord- Stefan and- oh god, Damon- oh hell no Klaus .
I theorised for a moment, that if I was a cog in a machine, why me? What was I supposed to do? It wasn't like I remembered everything that happened in that show, and I only read one of the books. How was I supposed to change anything? Was it even possible? What if the butterfly effect hit hard? What if a hurricane whirled its way into town because I bumped into the youngest Gilbert?
But then wouldn't something have happened when I met Sheriff Forbes ? I thought, remembering our encounter, and grimacing. Poor woman.
Mystic Falls was definitely not one for a quiet, retirement suburb. It was a well known magnet for dark supernatural affray- and I was stuck in the middle of it, for some unknown reason.
I have to be on some kind of psychedelic. I briefly wondered if Hilde spiked my food to make sure I was still taking medication.
My head hurt.
"Miss Clarke?" My head popped up, face burning when I saw multiple eyes on me, including the teacher. "I know you're new, and I respect the fact you're a foreign student, but as far as I'm aware we Americans are still comprehensible, so I'd appreciate it if you paid attention to play catch up," he gave me stern eyes. "Please."
I cleared my throat as a couple students gave low jeers. Mr. King quietened them down as I nodded. "Yeah, sir, sorry."
After that, it was a matter of balance between keeping my head down but still acting like I was paying attention. I jotted down notes occasionally, but mostly spent my time doodling a sun on the corner of my new notebook. I didn't miss school. I was always bad at it, found it hard to pay attention and concentrate on something that didn't hold my interest, always slacked.
I also didn't see the point in trying to excel in a life that I wasn't going to be in forever.
My mind glazed back to the matter I was struggling with pretty soon. I wasn't self-conceited enough to figure I was some kind of chosen one. I started playing with the idea that maybe it was divine intervention, maybe I died and this is my reincarnation but something messed up and I remember things I shouldn't have remembered...
Even though I was an atheist, after being in my circumstances I wasn't so sure anymore.
Who knew, maybe I was in hell, and this was a sick game for the devil to fuck with me.
Maybe it was a dream, after all.
It could have been anything, but what mattered was that I could feel it as if it were completely real. I felt physical pain. I felt sorrow for what I'd lost, who I'd lost. It made sense to just keep going, and if I was stuck here… maybe it was best to just leave Mystic Falls.
After class ended, I grabbed my bag strap, yanking it over my shoulder before leaving.
Leave a comment if you like so I know to write more!
-Avian