Prologue

Elena


The door suddenly swung open downstairs, "Bonnie, I'll have to call you back later okay? I think my mom's home." I informed her, almost in a silent whisper and quickly hung up the phone. I slowly tiptoed to the edge of the staircase and peered down into the living room. "Great. It's John and mom, again." I whispered to myself. This is the third night in a row that they come home drunk and wasted. How long can they keep this up? Doesn't she notice that she has responsibilities to own up to? And John. He's a whole different ballgame. He's way too wild, always partying and getting buzzed up.

"Do you think she's asleep by now Miranda?" John slurred while holding my mother close to him as he kissed her.

"I don't know, who cares? She's old enough to know what we're doing, hell; she might be doing the same thing out there!" She shouted drunkly as she pointed to the window, and continued to kiss him. John broke away as he went outside to his truck. Meanwhile, my mom moved herself and sunk down into the couch.

"Finally, he's leaving, for once in his life." I thought to myself, but I spoke too soon. He came back with something in his hand. At first, I couldn't make it out since I was above them, and whatever he was holding was small.

"This time, I'm prepared." He stuttered, his face painted with a stupid, drunk smirk. They started to kiss as he unbuttoned her shirt.

"Do you have any more cocaine on you?" She asked desperately, pushing him away.

"It depends; do you have the money for it? I need my money this time. I can't keep giving it to you, and besides you said you would get to it this week," he replied her, his eyes growing serious.

"John, you know I don't have that kind of money, stop being that way and jus' hand it over," she slurred.

"Don't you get it? I want my money. I want it now. I thought we had a deal," he screamed into my mother's frightened face. His eyes gleamed a deep fire of anger, and his face now flushing red. "I've given you enough time, I want my money now!" He continued his tirade of nasty comments while my mother drowned into the couch fearfully. I sat terrified on the staircase, watching them from above, secretly. I don't really know what my mother sees in this man, sure he may seem good looking, but there's a darker side to him.

She slowly rose from the couch as she adjusted her skirt and buttoned up her blouse. "You know what, I don't have your money," she began, laughing. "I never had money to start with. You see this house? It ain't mine." She added, now laughing hysterically.

"What do you mean it isn't yours? What the hell are you saying?" He spat at her, looking more confused, than angry.

"Yeah, you heard correctly, this house ain't mine, and it sure ain't yours eitha," she stuttered, still laughing. It's obvious she's too drunk and wasted to function.

"Whose house is this then?" He questioned, she stood there motionlessly, almost taunting him.

She threw her head back and erupted in laughter. He stood there staring at her as if she were insane. Her laughter became more controlled, yet had an insidious ring to it. "Well, lemme just put it this way and save you the trouble. This house, well obviously it ain't yours. It ain't mine eitha; it's my daughter's house."

In synchronization, my mouth and John's dropped. "What in the world are you saying Miranda? That you're broke, and your daughter is more financially stable? Is that what you're saying?" he questioned furiously.

"I didn't say that, who do you think you are telling me what I am or what I ain't!" She slurred drunkenly. "You're just a filthy piece of junk," she continued, angrily. "You don't know how to do nothin'," she sneered "Why look at ya, you're getting hounded at by a woman." She paused a moment. A sly smirk took over her. "That's right a woman."

John was angry to start with, but after that little scene, he was furious. One moment he was at one end of the living room; opposite to mom, and the next he was right in front of her. A split second later, I heard his hand rip across her face; knocking her onto the floor. He rolled her over and sat on top of her; starting to strangle her.

I could feel my scream burning up my throat; I couldn't handle it anymore. I let go.

He immediately let go of my mother's throat and around. After a second of looking around, he spotted me at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't realize I descended the stairs, until I saw him staring right at me. "Go back up stairs." He said calmly, yet angrily, "NOW!"

I started ascending the stairs quickly, my thoughts jumbled. "Now what?" I thought to myself. I headed quickly to my room, in search for my dad's Swiss army knife. I spotted it on my dresser table, and quickly grabbed it, knocking over a lamp in the process. I ran down the stairs, and into the living room. John didn't notice me behind him.

He was still choking the life out of my mother. I quickly flipped the knife and jumped on his back, "Get off my mom you bastard!" I screamed with anger.

All of a sudden he let go of her, and threw me off his back, flinging the knife from my hand and across the room. He stood up, "You! You think you can stop me? What are you going to do? Huh?" He spat at me bitterly, picking me up by my arms forced onto my sides. He lifted me up so high; my legs were kicking in the air. "You're just a little girl, you can't do anything to me!"

I screamed in his face, kicking him as hard as I can in the groin. Instantaneously, I dropped to the ground, seeing John doubled over, writhing in pain.

Immediately, I ran to the phone that was down the hall. I quickly dialled 911.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Finally an answer. "911, what is your emergency?" She toned through the phone receiver.

"I need your help, my mother's boyfriend is trying to murder us." I whispered, terrified.

"Alright, stay calm, I need the address" She said bluntly.

Before I could mutter the address to the operator, I saw John's shadow behind me. A blood curdling scream built up in my chest, I couldn't manage to keep it in. I let go, and dropped the receiver on the floor.

"You think you can get away from me that easily?" he muttered through his teeth, "You can't do anything now." He added, confidently.

Suddenly, I found myself on the floor, my head throbbing, and bloodied. Everything seemed to black out.


I awoke to the monotonous beeping of a heart monitor. At first, I didn't recognise where I was; then it hit me, I was at a hospital, the ICU to be specific. What happened? I thought to myself.

My first reaction was to check my head, feel around and figure out what I was here for. I traced my fingers around the top of my forehead, where the pain seemed to pulse. "Stitches ,"I whispered to myself.

Come to think of it, I felt pain all over my body. Lacking the energy to pull myself up and check, I just let myself fall back into a deep sleep.


I was hurled back into reality when the police came into the small room. Their loud knocking would have awoken the dead, let alone those who were sleeping. I could hear the on-duty nurse scolding them, telling them to keep quiet.

Slowly and quietly the door opened, and the on-duty nurse, Christy, popped in. "Elena, the police are here and they have a few questions for you," she began telling me warmly, leading them inside the room swiftly. She redirected her attention to the two policemen that were in the room, saying "You have fifteen minutes, and do try to keep quiet, this is no place for loud chatter, this is the intensive care unit. I'll be back when your time is up to escort you out of the room. If you finish beforehand, buzz me in, and I'll take the necessary actions to escort you out."

As Christy was leaving, the officers looked at each other, then back to me and laughed. "Is she always like this?" one of the officers asked me.

"I'm not sure, sir. I've just met her." I answered back, noticing my voice was strained, as if I had been screaming loudly.

"You've been here for ten days, and you've just met her?" He asked, astonished.

"Of course she just met her, you idiot. The girl's been in a coma for the past week and a half, Tom." The other officer answered back for me.

"You didn't have to be all in my face about it, Sam." Tom spat back.

"Sorry to interrupt you to, but we're tight on time, what is it that you need exactly, officers?" I asked sternly.

"I'm Officer Sam, and this is Officer Tom. We came to inform you that John Gilbert has been arrested and is now awaiting trial."

"What about my mother, how's my mother doing?" I asked wearily.

"Well, about your mother," Sam began to explain. His hands seemed to fidget here and there. "Your mother is facing trial soon, and may face a long prison sentence for…"

"Drug abuse, I presume?" I interrupted.

"Well, yes. She may face at least five years jail time, a couple hundred hours of community and service and three years probation." Sam continued.

"At least now she'll have time to think of what she's done." I answered bitterly, folding my arms under my chest, taking extra care to not disturb the IV drip tube placed in my right hand.

"Might I mention, child services are reviewing your custody at the moment," Tom began explaining. "I think the way things are going, she could lose your custody. Do you have any family that you could stay with? If you don't, you're going to have to go to a foster home."

"Yes, I've got some family in Mystic Falls, Virginia and in Philly." I stated.

"Are they immediate family? Or are they just friends of the family?" Tom continued to ask.

"Well my aunt lives in Philly with her husband and two kids, and my grandmother lives in Mystic Falls. Frankly, I prefer living with my grandmother in Mystic Falls."

"You're going to have to supply me with the necessary contact information to inform her of your custody trial." Tom informed me.

"Alright, I'll do so as soon as possible; I've got a question, officer." I began to inquire.

"Go ahead." Officer Tom and Sam said simultaneously. We looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, what was John convicted of exactly?"

Both officers looked at each other to see who was going to speak first, then back to me. Sam ended up telling me. "Well, he wasn't convicted, he was arrested. He's facing trial for a few different reasons, firstly he was arrested on one count of possession of drugs, one count of illegal distribution of drugs, one count of driving under the influence, two counts of assault and battery, as well as two counts of attempted third degree murder."

"With that many counts against him, does he stand a chance at being found not guilty in the trial?"

"Well, even if he hires a very clever lawyer, he's still screwed. I doubt he will though, so I think he's going to end up behind bars."

Before I could make a comment, Christy popped into the room, "I'm sorry officers, your time is up. Please follow me to the reception where you will have some forms waiting for you."

Silently, both Tom and Sam got up and followed Christy out of the room, not uttering a single word.

After a few minutes, Christy returned to check how I was doing. She quietly moved about checking the monitors attached to me from every direction and writing down observations on the clipboard that was hanging from my footboard. After what seemed to be a long silence, she managed to speak. "You seem to be doing quite well for someone who's only admitted a few days ago."

"So how does that translate to how much time left in the ICU?" I asked, eager to know.

"Well, now that you're out of a comatose state, the doctors are going to monitor you for a day or two to see if there are any relapses, and then you'll probably be released. Oh, which reminds me, the two officers that were just here are coming back tomorrow to get all the details of the relatives that are going to be informed of your custody switch. Who're you going to live with?"

"I was thinking of moving to Mystic Falls to live with my grandmother Isobel." I replied.

"The custody work could take a few days to sort out, seeing the situation you're in. If you're released before then, we can place you in one of the wards until all the paperwork is done, then you can move in with your gran." She informed me with a smile. Her smile was earnest, leaving me at ease.

Christy seemed to be still training for her nursing license, since it seemed impossible to be that young and have her license. She seemed to be 22, with beautiful copper hair in a tight bun and a slender figure. She wasn't too tall either, roughly 5 foot 4.

"So, how old are you, Elena?" Christy asked, while checking the monitors to see if my heart rate is irregular or not.

"I'm seventeen,"

"Graduating this June?"

"No, next June. I'm a Junior, or at least I was a Junior."

"Oh, so what do you plan to major in university?"

"I'm thinking of majoring in Psychology."

"So, are you hungry? I think it's about time you ate something, rather than being fed through an IV." she said as she shuffled around the room.

"I'm fine with anything," I answered her with a smile.

"Alrighty, I'll see what there is to eat and I'll be back." she chimed as she moved out of the room, closing the door behind her softly.


The next day the two policemen came back. They started recording my grandmother's address and telephone number and other pieces of information to make the custody transfer.

"We want you to attend court," began Officer Sam.


AN: Hey guys! I'm rewriting the entire story to edit out some awful mistakes and horribly cheesy lines! I'm still looking for a beta, so if you're interested, SPEAK UP! Seriously, I need someone to bounce ideas back and forth with!