Friday, February 5, 2010

9

inside dark rooms

no one sees wounds

raw open quiet places

where love leaves

no trace of remembered bliss

and no one hears

my heart calling

do not forsake me

one more time

Lying there surrounded by flames, Bonnie could see the stairs, yet her body was too weak to get up. The smell of kerosene clung to her nose drowning out most other smells except for one. It was herbaceous, floral even, but it made her sick to her stomach.

Attempting once more to pick herself up, she finally took in the horror of the room. She heard the screams as she watched dozens of flaming mounds burning wildly, emitting the smell of pig like flesh in the air.

Bonnie began to panic as the fire grew close to her. She wondered if this was the moment she would die. Closing her eyes, resigned to her fate she took a deep breath when she heard the name Damon come from the top of the stairs. The words resounded in her ears giving her a sense of hope.

Bonnie mentally replayed the dream she had been having since October feeling a renewed since of dread. Recently the dream had become more vivid. She no longer had any doubt that this dream was a vision. A vision of Damon's death.

Even though she was happy to imagine Damon finally getting what he deserved, she couldn't help but worry. Was she having them to prevent his demise? Or was she having visions to ensure it?

She had searched her grandmother's grimoires and had not found much information regarding visions. Not even Emily's grimoire mentioned visions with any certain detail. Perhaps visions were not the kind of things that were common in the family. She had no way of knowing truly without communing with the spirits. She however was reluctant.

Since her grandmother's funeral she had been practicing alternative types of magic, dark magic. She had learned a spell that would stop a vampire in its tracks by destroying the capillaries in its brain. According to Gram's such practices of causing harm through bodily manipulation were dark forms of magic that shouldn't be used at all unless in dire circumstances.

Bonnie figured that the emergence of several vampires each over a hundred years old was a good enough circumstance to warrant the use of such magic. Despite her need for guidance, she still did not reach out to the Spirits.

Bonnie was nervous about communing with such powerful beings much older than her. She was acutely aware that at this moment she was too vulnerable to criticism, and she was afraid of what they might do or say once they found out about her use of dark magic.

Second, she was afraid because she was worried about seeing her grandmother again. The sorrow of losing her was not easy to handle and Bonnie didn't want to open the wound of her demise again.

Third, she was afraid of Emily her ancestor possessing her once more. The violation of her body had caused Damon's wretched retaliation and she did not know if she would ever forgive Emily for that.

Bonnie slipped out of her big comfy chair and was greeted by the cold floor. It was early February, yet she kept her windows slightly ajar for fresh air despite the cold weather. She was constantly feeling feverish after the dreams she had been having. Damon Salvatore fever dreams. God I should never say that out loud.

Bonnie licked her lips desperate for a glass of water. As she did, she felt the familiar ridges under her tongue with renewed curiosity. To her surprise they still had the same salty aftertaste from her general dehydration. For weeks she had been rechecking them absentmindedly, as if she expected the events after her grandmother's funeral to affect her permanently.

The familiar rattle of Matt's pickup truck in her driveway broke her from her thoughts. She hadn't told her friends she was back in town, and she wanted to keep it that way for a bit. However, she had forgotten to park her car in her garage. Fucking great!

Although, she didn't want to see anyone from school today she was okay with Matt being the exception. He was the most normal and chill of her best friends. No matter what they always had a good time and he never pried to deeply. He was more like a relaxed big brother in some ways than a best friend.

The doorbell rang as Bonnie jogged downstairs calling out to her dad that she had it. Rudy was downstairs finally putting away the extra food and cake they had that earlier to celebrate her birthday. Everything came from her favorite French Bistro just outside of Mystic Falls.

"Come-in," her dad shouted at the door.

Her dad always kept the door unlocked when he was around. It had always frustrated Grams and she'd constantly argue with him about it.

Who do you think you are, Superman? You gonna fight whoever or whatever comes through that door. No. So keep it locked, Rudy.

Baby, make sure your daddy locks the door. Lawd knows the man is smart but he's military so he don't believe in self-preservation. Take care of your daddy baby.

Bonnie was frozen still on the last stair when Matt came through the door. Her eyes were watering slightly her mind swimming free of the memory. Hey, Matt mouthed silently realizing that Bonnie was on the verge of tears. Before he could make his way to her Rudy called from the kitchen," You want some food son, we've got plenty. You know Bonnie doesn't really eat leftovers."

"No thanks Mr. Hopkins, I ate at the Grille." Rudy was a feeder. Whenever he was in town Bonnie always ate well. Truthfully, Rudy insisted on having something new each night, so she never got the opportunity to eat leftovers.

Taking the shift of attention as an opportunity she dried her eyes. Bonnie hadn't realized she had made so many memories with Grams but now they were attacking her flooding her mind with all the things she had forgotten to cherish. Bonnie made her way to stand next to Matt slipping on a pair of boots by the door and grabbed hold of his arm.

"Matt and I are going for a walk. Maybe he will want cake afterward," Bonnie was pulling Matt through the door, when Rudy called out to them.

"Don't be out too late. We've got an early brunch and a movie together, remember!"

Bonnie waved back before pulling Matt closer leading them across the street to Wayland Park. Arm in arm they walked in silence, Bonnie had forgotten a sweater and was shivering. She cuddled into Matt noticing that he had his varsity and a hoodie on. She debated for a moment weather she should go back and get a jacket or ask Matt for his.

Damon would have given you his jacket already.

Bonnie felt her pores grow larger with goosebumps at the thought. She didn't know why Damon was in her head in that way. Half the time she thought about him she was frustrated with him or dreaming of smacking him. The other half of the time was just confusing. In those moments she'd just see his face staring at her or imagined something he'd say to frustrate her. She could only surmise that her hatred for him was making her insane. Why else would she be thinking of him in any other way beside killing him.

Damon was evil and it was his fault that her Grams was dead. If he hadn't been such a love sick fool then her grandmother would be alive. And yet Bonnie felt sorry for Damon, in a superficial way. Maybe, if it weren't for Katherine, Damon would be a good person. He did love one woman for an extremely long time so, he is really devoted. A devoted psycho. Biting her lip Bonnie began to trace the inside of her lips with her tongue again, thinking back to the moment she had with Damon after her grandmother's funeral.

"You cold B," Matt slowed to a stop before unhooking himself from Bonnie to remove his jacket and give it to her. Bonnie grateful to be distracted from her thoughts pulled the jacket on shoving her hands in the pockets. Her right finger was pricked by something wrapped in strong plastic.

Bonnie's face gave away her surprise and Matt answered mischievously," I see you noticed your birthday present."

Bonnie opened the pocket with two hands and peered in to see a small blunt in a clear plastic bag. I love you Matt Donovan.

Grabbing his hand and pulling him deeper into the trail, they veered off path and into a narrow grove of pine where the smell could be contained before it dissipated upward.

"Lighter," Bonnie ordered bringing the blunt to her lips.

"Jeez so Bossy," Matt giggled, lighting the blunt with his dad's silver lighter, the only thing the man left behind.

Bonnie rolled her eyes at him taking her first huff, immediately choking afterward. She smoked only when it was a special occasion or if she was in desperate need of relief. So in truth she had maybe smoked once a year since she was fourteen. Not really a pro by any means.

She passed the blunt back to Matt who declined citing his car in front of her house as the reason. Bonnie kept the blunt in her hand lit, fearing it was going to waste but not quite ready to put it out yet. Saying fuck-it and that he'd walk the quarter mile to his house Matt took a hit before blowing out a perfect circle.

They moved to the small picnic table close by not talking and just breathing in the night air and the smell of marijuana. Bonnie didn't know how much time had passed before she noticed the constant headache she had been experiencing had vanished. Laying back on the top of the table, Bonnie closed her eyes enjoying the easiness that had overcome her. She felt good like Pre-Salvatore brothers good. She snorted loudly causing Matt to react.

"What's so funny Bon, the weed couldn't have hit you that quickly," Matt was hogging the blunt at this point, but Bonnie didn't mind. Her eyes were measuring the distance between her and the stars. Finding it strange that they were so close and so far. Like a blanket just falling on top of the world forever on its way to cover you, eternally at a distance. The sky was like the quilt that Grams said she was going to make her in the third grade, she had started it but never finished it.

"Bon?" Matt called to her this time laying next to her only a hairs breath away.

"You know I fucking hate the Salvatores right," Bonnie's breath could be seen in the small space between them. Matt didn't blink as she huffed little cold air puffs in his face.

"Both of them? Not just Damon?" Matt asked putting the joint between his lips, looking confused at where his lighter was. Finally finding it in between him and Bonnie, he opened it with a practiced click lit the blunt and puffed another oh again.

"I didn't stutter," Bonnie joked admiring the dissipating smoke.

"I get hating Damon, but Stefan isn't that bad. I mean he's got decent taste in cars, "Matt handed her the blunt and she attempted to take another hit and began to choke again.

"Nice taste in cars. High compliment, well higher than I expected from you. I thought you hated him because he was dating Elena," Bonnie tried to take another hit, finally getting a decent enough breath in.

"I don't hate him, especially now that I am with Care. But I never really hated him in the first place, I was just sad cause I'd lost Elena without explanation," Matt went quiet for second eyes lost in the sky," I can honestly say I think Stefan could be a good friend. At least he won't fuck my mom like my other friend."

Bonnie felt herself sober slightly; she had heard from Caroline what had happened last Saturday. She couldn't believe what Tyler had done; sure, he had been a dick but never that much.

"I kicked her out Bon. Between her fucking Damon Salvatore and Tyler, I just couldn't stand to see her face again," Bonnie's blood ran cold, this was the first time she heard about Damon having sex with Kelley. Her heart was beating so fast. Why Kelley? Does he just fuck anyone? Matt's mom really? Fucking asshole, does he have no standard? How could Kelley do that to Matt? Is Matt, okay?

Bonnie's mind was racing as she grinded her teeth into her bottom lip. She felt the growing urge to confront him, to retaliate for Matt' sake. That monster had stolen Vicki's life and now had played with Kelley. Kelley had the reputation of getting around town but that still didn't make her interaction with Damon any less dangerous. If there was anything Bonnie was sure of was that Damon needed to be put on a leash, somehow someway she would find that leash. You can't leash a Demon Bon, you either join them or destroy them? Damon's words echoed in her head. Absentmindedly, her fingers went to her mouth the tips lightly breaching her closed mouth. Closing her eyes, she felt the pull of her memory bringing her back to the funeral.

"Bonnie, you, okay?" Matt asked his face hovering over hers, his baby blues bloodshot. The sight was so familiar.

"Umm yeah, sorry I zoned out," she smiled sheepishly trying to hide in his jacket. It was normal for him to get close to her but the way his eyes had just reminded her of someone else made her feel so uncomfortable.

"I can tell, maybe it's time, I take you home," Matt got up putting the last bit out before sealing the rest back in the baggy. Giving her a hand Matt lifted Bonnie up and she fell into him. Giggling she tried to pull away to poke his stomach, but he held her tight.

"I missed you Bon," Matt whispered into her hair," I feel like you are the only one who gets it. I thought Caroline would understand but she just… sometimes she thinks she's helping with the advice and shit. I just needed someone to listen. Thanks."

Bonnie felt guilty cause she was pretty sure she hadn't heard everything at some point, but she wasn't going to say anything if Matt was happy. They walked back arm in arm, Bonnie threatened to take Matt's keys if he tried to drive his car before he was sober, even though he kept explaining to her that he wasn't stupid and that he was walking. Bonnie punched him for talking back and Matt pretended to be hurt. Finally, they hugged, and Matt walked the short distance down the street to his house.

Bonnie ran up stairs grateful that her dad was an early sleeper. She tore off her clothes and stuffed them under the gym gear she had been meaning to wash. Suddenly, she remembered her window was open and that someone could probably see every inch of her brown flesh. She raced to the bathroom feeling stupid and slight giddy. She was sure that was because of the weed.

Her shower was long, and she took the time to wash her hair with the intention of letting it air dry in braids. Deeply engaged with the sensation of the shower Bonnie barely noticed the slight rustle outside her window. Finally, waking up from her reverie she turned her attention to the sound, tap off, towel on.

Afraid, she opened the door slightly slowly peering her head out to right at her window. In her open window was vase full or bright red roses, brighter than anything she had ever seen. Drawn in by the colors against the midnight sky Bonnie headed to the window, in nothing but her towel.

Picking up the vase she examined it smelling each delicate rose, in pure euphoria. She closed the window after feeling the chill on her skin and placed the vase on her bedside table. Amongst the flowers was a card, bright white in elegant contrast.

In the neatest handwriting she had seen she read the words that shook her with terror, Happy Birthday Little Bird. Turning toward the window she half expected to see Damon his bloody face and vampire eyes resurfacing in her memory.

DECEMBER 14, 2009

The funeral had gone on too long, in Bonnie's opinion, and it probably wasn't even what Grams would have wanted. She had never learned about proper witch funerals or burials. So instead, they had a Christian one based on her father's newly adopted religion and Bonnie tried not to set the whole place on fire, when the priest casually hoped that her Grams had got right with the lord before her death. The whole ceremony felt off, although her dad's family were pleasant enough, they never knew Grams and Rudy's perspective was skewed by his dislike for magic.

No one was there to mourn Grams with Bonnie, not in any way that made sense. Sure, her friends were there crying with her and holding her, but they couldn't know the way it felt. The feeling as magic left Grams' body, then her soul. The emptiness in her head from where her Grams' power had always been buzzing near her letting her know that home was close by. All her life she been around the woman and never realized that feeling of connection she felt with Grams was more than just familial it was magical. Bonnie missed it desperately the way she imagined someone would miss a limb. Sometimes you can still feel it there even though you know it's never going to return.

Worst of all Damon and Stefan Salvatore showed up as Elena's escort with Jenna and Jeremy falling close behind them. It felt like a slap in the face and brought forth in her a rage she could not describe. She found herself glaring to her right side at them. Seeing Damon Salvatore of all people smile at her woefully dressed in all black as he pretended to be concerned for Elena. As he handed her a tissue while she cried, as if that had been her grandmother that he stole the life from. Bonnie was sure she was going to kill him.

After the repass, Bonnie decided to take a late-night stroll to the park. She wasn't paying any attention to her surroundings; she was just walking trying her best to escape the choking feeling in her throat by taking deep breaths. She had cried as expected but they had been shallow tears hiding the real ugly ones deep inside her.

Bonnie needed to cry, to let the emotions pass through, somewhere safer than the house if things went sideways. Feeling the wind pick up around her she found her favorite tire swing just near the entrance of the park. She was watched as the autumn leaves fell absentmindedly, expecting the tears to fall the same. But her eyes were dry and all she had was the lump in her throat and a headache.

She didn't sense that a tomb vampire had snuck up behind her until it was almost at her neck. In that time, it was too late to defend herself, instead she fell to the ground and tried to scramble back, much to the satisfaction of the vampire. Terrified Bonnie tried to use her abilities, but nothing would come, her throat was so mangled with fear and sorrow she couldn't scream. But the tears were finally coming.

Bravely, Damon's raven came down from the tree line and headed straight for the eyes of the tomb vampire. The bird was large but nimble and seemed to be able to evade most of the vampire's attacks, taking out an eye before being swatted to the ground.

Bloody and crumbled the black bird cawed in pain loudly, the mangled eye hanging from his lips. Enraged by the sight of the bird she felt her fear dissipate long enough to call fire to her, but it was useless, as the bush next to the vampire caught on flame instead.

Trying to concentrate she imagined the vampires neck snapping but instead his head banged against the side of the swing set. The bars were dented known and wouldn't make any kind of damage to the vampire. Bonnie kept crawling back and thought back to when she had fought Damon. She tried to pick up another stake, but her concentration was broken by the hand around her throat.

Damon Salvatore was right. Terrible last words, but even worse that they were true.

In her fear she had fucked herself and there was no un-fucking herself now. That's when he appeared and in one quick motion, he sent the vampires spinning, his own face a vision of gothic fury. Eyes shrouded in black veins, bright red beneath eerie blue, gleaming white fangs peeked.

The vampire's body was still stiff and held Bonnie tightly by the throat. She felt herself growing lightheaded as Damon pried the fingers from her neck. He didn't speak his face still in the same vampiric mask as before.

Bonnie fell to the floor grasping for air as blood rushed to her capillaries in her lungs and nose with a painful tingle. Lying down on the floor in a star shaped, she prayed for the first time in her life. Finally, her head stopped spinning so badly and she noticed Damon standing over the body of the raven.

Damon's eyebrows were knitted together, and his jaw was tight with emotion. For a moment Bonnie wondered if he was going to cry. Bonnie wasn't sure how she felt at that moment but the words, I am sorry slid from her mouth in a whisper.

As if woken up by her voice, Damon vamped to her bending down to be level with her. Damon looked frightening in his full vampire form, but she still felt that same old, desire to keep searching for that something.

"You are sorry, witch," Damon's voice was cold, and his eyes had gone even colder, she could no longer sense the sorrow from before. It was like it was never there.

"I am, your bird saved my life," she choked out the words preparing to offer her thanks.

"He served a purpose," Bonnie looked at Damon incredulously searching for the hint of ill-timed laughter or an apology for a poorly worded joke. But she couldn't find it Damon was serious.

"A purpose was that all he was, he died doing what you asked. Don't you feel something?"

"Frustration, it takes too long to train them that good, even still Buck was one of a kind."

"He was just a pawn to you; we are all just pawns to you."

"We?"

"Yes, me and my grandmother!" Bonnie found her voice finally, screaming with fury.

Damon looked at Bonnie still cold, and unfeeling, an angry smirk flashing on his face for a nano-second before he spoke," Your grandmother lived a long life, and died because of your ancestors' foolishness. That same ancestor a century and a half ago backed me into a promise, predicated on a lie. Now, well now I am stuck protecting her youngest descendant, while she meanders through small town life like a mediocre supporting character. This same mediocre witch is now confronting me about using people, while I do my job protecting her mediocre ass. I am still, keeping my promise to protect you, whilst living with the fact that the love of my life turned out to be a lying bitch."

Damon closed his eyes taking a deep breath," If you are truly sorry Bonnie, then you will make yourself useful to me as I have done to you. Sure, I am a monster, I am a demon bound for hell but little bird, you can't keep a demon on a leash and expect it to be tame. You can't leash a Demon Bon, you either join them or destroy them. Judging by how you handle this last little square off I think you're stuck with me."

Bonnie mouth was slightly ajar, his speech left her feeling a mix of emotions. The categories of which she wasn't even certain. All she could do was stare at him.

His eyes that had been boring into the concrete were finally on, her clear blue no longer shadowed by his supernatural visage. With a beautiful mask of perfect looking concern, he stared at her throat. She attempted to look down but felt the pain of her open wounds on her neck where she had suspected the vampire had dug his nails in deeply.

Damon bit his wrist and attempted to give her his blood, but she refused. The disorienting feelings she had before were squaring away, and deep hatred was winning over everything. Rolling his eyes, Damon took his three-middle fingers and bit down. Bonnie looked on disgusted, her mouth opening wider when he shoved his bloody fingers in her mouth.

The feeling of him violating her that way was exquisitely disturbing. Without realizing it she had moaned feeling her saliva mix with the sweet taste of his blood. She was surprised by the flavor and didn't have enough time to process the flavor as she swallowed it involuntarily.

Eyes closed mouth agape Bonnie felt his fingers slide from her mouth slowly, pulling her bottom lip down gently with friction before parting. The cold air rushed into her mouth and her eyes opened, greeted by the sight of nothingness and hardened nipples.

That night she made a promise to herself, to tame Damon Salvatore, and if she couldn't tame like she suspected she couldn't, she'd kill him. Oh, how she wanted to kill him.