"Two boxes left." Bonnie grumbled, staring at the open hatch of her 1994 Honda Civic. "Just two more boxes, and then I can relax." It was funny how after hefting the other fifteen boxes, these remaining two seemed like such a titanic effort. Of course, she could have set her moving date prior to Elena and Meredith's European hike, but that would have made sense.
'Face it, McCullough.' She grimaced, dragging the larger of the two towards her. Bending with her knees, she lifted the box, juggling it until it was comfortable in her arms. 'You were so steamed that they took Matt and Kiera instead of you that you wouldn't have asked for their help even if they were in town.'
It wasn't jealousy, precisely, that made her teeth grind together at the mere thought of Kiera Keith. There was something indefinable about the other girl that made the hair at the back of Bonnie's neck rise. The blond and her father had arrived in Fell's Church two weeks after Klaus had been imprisoned.
Smart, pretty and vapid, it had taken Kiera all of ten minutes to remove Matt from Bonnie's side and wrap him about her little finger. Tall, slim and perky, she was the perfect personal cheerleader for the former Football hero.
And she made Bonnie's skin crawl. Her sweet little smile seemed to turn nasty when it was directed in her direction, and there was no cause, no reason for it. 'Except jealousy, if I listen to Elena.'
Perhaps that was what created the division between herself and her friends, not Kiera, but Bonnie's refusal to listen to Elena over her own common sense. 'Mom always said Independent Thought was the death of my infancy. Wonder when I stopped thinking for myself and let Elena think for me?'
A short chuckle tore loose of her throat. It was so easy to be critical of others, and not look to herself for the initial failing. Lacking in friends, self-confidence and Elena's cool looks, Bonnie had willingly succumbed to Elena's dominance all those years ago. The fault was hers, for not keeping her independence, and no one else's.
It had been so nice, all those years ago, to walk into the schoolyard with Elena beside her. The kids hadn't jeered at her tiny size or red hair, the transference of Elena's glory to Bonnie was just so smooth. Suddenly, her long fine hair was in vogue, her fondness for black patent shoes became cool, and giggling was a normal thing.
In Highschool, to be the escort of a Princess of Elena's court was the highest achievement any teenage male could achieve. There had been no short supply of dates for the milestone events of her adolescent years. Indeed, Bonnie had been one of the first girls of her age group in Fell's Church to have a boyfriend. It went hand in hand, Elena's will ruled all aspects of life.
Katherine and Klaus had changed that to some degree, but they had not nearly the impact Bonnie's Scottish family had made. Those weeks in Scotland, with her grandmother and her friends had shaken the mould from Bonnie's body and let her see the world with her own eyes and her own mind. What a revelation that had been, to see a child wearing torn jeans with a sloppy t-shirt and not criticize, but smile in recognition that climbing a tree was more fun than watching someone else do so.
Returning, after that magical summer, to Fell's Church had been awkward. She had been trying to crawl back into the shell Elena had constructed for her, but found the fit was all wrong. Still, Bonnie had tried. 'Until Elena died. There isn't a wakeup call like that.'
Sighing, Bonnie shook her head, clearing cobwebs. Those events were three years ago, and there was no point dwelling on them further. The point was, she was her own woman now, her own thoughts, goals and determinations set the course of her life. 'Gods help the man I marry.' She chuckled.
Juggling the box, to get a firmer grip, she lightly walked up the three steps to her mainfloor apartment. Bonnie still couldn't quite believe her luck in finding this place, the building had been such a steal. The monthly cost was so low that it easily allowed her to attend her last year of classes and live comfortably under a restricted budget.
The habit resulting out of Elena's death, of writing a diary, had evolved into writing short stories and from there into writing novels. Last summer, she had sent out a finished novel to a publisher's agent, just on a lark. Her surprise had been tremendous when the fiction had been accepted. The editing had taken five months, but the book was on bookshelves in stores across the country now, and her while not lavish earnings had been enough to pay for another year of school.
With a second book in editing now, and a third in rough draft, Bonnie's agent was confident that there was financial security in Bonnie's writing ability. 'Thank you, Goddess!' Bonnie smiled, using her foot to kick her apartment door wider. 'Imagine if I had to work in a store, or in a restaurant? The first stray thought and I'd go ballistic.'
Her psychic abilities had blossomed tremendously since the defeat of Klaus. So much so, that if she were caught in a crowd, unless she carefully guarded her mind, the thoughts of the people around her would overwhelm her senses. Each joy, sorrow, triviality or horror that the people could imagine would swamp her mind. It was vertigo unlike any other, and once begun it couldn't be filtered out. In order for mental stability, Bonnie had to enter a crowd or public place with mental shields, or not go at all. She had to gird her mind each day with a fresh new armor, and hope nothing came slamming at her shields to knock them down.
All that made this apartment building just perfectly suited for her. There were only five units in the entire complex, three of them occupied by senior couples. The fourth had a young family, but since it was on the top floor, Bonnie felt no concern for the presence of children's minds. And oddly enough each individual unit was warded. 'So, either the landlord was a psychic, or a previous resident was. Funny, we don't even have tarot readers in Fell's Church, so I wonder who it could have been?'
Setting the box down in her new kitchen, Bonnie glanced quickly over the unit with pride. A small two bedroom apartment, with a nice size kitchenette and living room, it was the perfect first home. The extra bedroom would be eventually converted into a guest- room/office. A guestroom should she have a guest, but a quiet place for her to write and do her work for school.
Even the stark white walls seemed perfect. 'Perfect for painting, you mean!' She laughed silently, already deciding on deep hunter green paint to compliment the hardwood flooring. The large picture window that let so much light in would welcome the rich colours, she knew, and it would quickly create a homey feel.
"Yeah, yeah. it'll look marvelous." Bonnie shook her head. "You're procrastinating! Go get the last box, lock up the car and start unpacking!" Brushing at her jeans, trying to scoot away some of the dust that always seem to accommodate boxes, no matter how new or clean, she straightened and made for the door with determination.
The last box was going to be a doozy. Her mother had given her all those cast-iron pots and pans that had been Grams. They were so heavy, but so terrific for cooking. or casting, depending on what you were mixing up. Loading them into her Hatchback had been brutal, and lifting them out would be worse.
"Be a woman, not a wuss." She muttered, stalking down the stairs. "How bad can it be?" Less than a minute later, with a giant "wooof" as air rushed from her lungs, she knew exactly how bad it would be. Tired muscles protested at the abuse, but her willpower hung on. One step, two step, three -- pausing, Bonnie rested the box on the metal banister of the stairs and breathed deeply. Just three steps up, two steps across and then who KNEW how far into the kitchen and she could relax. Perhaps she'd sit on the couch and never get up again.
Tucking her hands at the bottom corners of the box, she braced to lift. A flicker of motion above her made her pause. Looking over her shoulder she saw one of her elderly neighbours step down the stairs with a garbage bag in hand. "Hi Mrs. Rundle!" Bonnie called by way of greeting. "Nice evening, isn't it?"
The woman was eighty if a day and even tinier than Bonnie. Where Bonnie was tiny but strong, Mrs. Rundle was tiny and very fragile looking. The skin nearly white showed all those fine blue veins in her hands and arms. The slightest bump into her would likely create a huge bruise if not break bones.
"Bonnie, dear!" The old woman smiled sweetly. She was such a grandmotherly type. "Shouldn't you have a young man hefting those dreadful boxes around? You might hurt your back!"
Bonnie chuckled, bending knees and lifting the box once the woman was below her. "There's a short supply of helpful young men in the world, Mrs. Rundle. All the good ones are gone, and only the slobs that would sit on the couch and watch football are left behind."
Mrs. Rundle smiled, dimples flashing. "Oh dear, there speaks a woman of the world!" She laughed a merry cheerful sound. "Off you go, before you hurt yourself."
The smile in Bonnie's eye was genuine, just as the grimace on her face was to the weight of her burden. Persevering, she entered the apartment and then fell to pieces. "Close enough." She muttered, depositing the cookware in the entryway. "I'll unpack you from here. One darn piece at a time!"
Swinging her leg, she administered a scornful kick to the evil box, yelping as her toes shrieked protest. 'Evil nasty box!' With a slight hobble, she returned to the apartment entrance and down the stairs, absently patting down her coat in endless search for car keys. One of these days, she would own a car with that remote keyless entry stuff, but for now, the old manual key-required style of car was the only one she could afford.
The car served her well, though. With low mileage on it, and fuel economy beyond her wildest fantasies, it was an economical and comfortable vehicle. Sure, it would never compare to the absolute sexy sleekness of Damon's black Ferrari, but it was enough. 'Damon, huh. Wonder what he's driving now.' That car was one of her biggest regrets, in that she had never gotten a ride in it. With the window open, her red hair loose and sunglasses on, it would have been a Kodak moment.
'Oh well. Damon always brought too much excitement to Fell's Church. I rather like this quiet peace. No one's dying, no one's being butchered or tortured. This is much nicer.' Bonnie sighed, trying to see the good in the peace but only feeling stifled by the sheer boredom of the town. 'Oh my kingdom for a spot of excitement.'
Rounding the corner, she looked up and screamed.
Blood dripped off the edges of the car's hood, and the windshield was completely smashed in with the weight of Mrs. Rundle's slaughtered body. The old woman's head was twisted at an unholy angle, her terrified blue eyes open and frozen in death.
Her body curled up, and Bonnie clutched one hand over her mouth and another balled into her stomach, trying to stave back a gag reflex. Bonnie didn't miss the degree of trauma on the woman's body. Blood was splattered everywhere with bits and pieces of human flesh and organs. Something had torn into the woman, ripping her deep from chin to tummy, and leaving a gapping maw of dead organs openly exposed for viewing. "No.No.No.No." Bonnie keened, stepping backwards until her body was against a brick wall. "No. Please no."
Shaking her head violently, Bonnie tore her eyes away, looking up to see a red moon hanging heavily low in the sky, as round, as luminously bloody as her dreams had promised. The nightmares weren't nightmares. They were visions. A promise of a future to come.
She was going to die.
Hours later, the police left towing her car away with apologies. The vehicle was needed for forensic testing, to determine details of the murder. Sitting frozen on her cluttered couch, Bonnie could care less. Her mind was trapped with the initial image of poor Mrs. Rundle sprawled across her car's hood, with an expression of unholy terror etched forever on her sweet face.
"My fault." Bonnie found herself whispering, arms wrapping tightly about her. Her visions were always somewhat vague, but not that one. Three weeks ago, she'd dreamt of a faceless corpse on her car, blood drizzling down and a full red moon hanging in the background. From there, the dream had progressed to a shapeless black thing giving the whispery promise that it was all for her.
Shivering, she tucked her knees up closer, curling in on herself until she could tighten up no more. Listening to Stefan and Elena dismiss her dreams as nothing more than a nightmare of no consequence had lulled her, making her careless. But, oh, how she wished they had been right.
Nothing in the universe, not surviving Klaus, or witnessing Elena's resurrection as a vampire could prepare her for the vision of her own death. A bloody horrible and painful death in a dark, cold place with no one around her and no one to miss her. That dream had been the catalyst for her sudden move from home to the apartment. For three nights straight, while her parents were in Vegas, Bonnie had woken screaming at the top of her lungs. And every time, it had been at the exact same moment, just as a claw tore threw her throat silencing her voice in death.
The smell of her blood almost had taste to it. Rich, metallic and heavy in dank air, Bonnie had felt the trickling slide weeping from gaping cuts, had felt the sting and weakness inherent in the process of being butchered to pieces, and had felt the futility of escape.
Those were just dreams. Reality was apparently far worse. 'Why me?' She moaned plaintively. ;I just wanted a normal life. I wanted to get married, have children, dance the funky chicken at my 75th birthday. Normal things.' Shuddering, she stared blankly at white walls.
The only light in her darkness was that nothing predicted was carved in stone. The slightest variable could change the future, but nothing could alter the past. There was a new evil in Fell's Church, and she was alone to deal with it.
Her eyes slid to the phone sitting on the fireplace hearth, the expression in her face wistful. Once upon a time, she would have called Elena and found aid. Now, she doubted help was coming. They'd made their feelings clear, hadn't they? The disbelief that anything could happen in Fell's Church? That Bonnie had prescient skills, or that she was promising a darkness upon this town unlike anything Klaus could commit. "I'm alone." Her voice sounded tiny in the huge space of her apartment. Closing her eyes, she reached out with the only strength she had left, her faith. "Gods, I don't want to die. Please. But, I don't want anyone else to die too. So, please, if you've ever spared me a thought, help me?"