"This could get ugly," I warned Elena as her hand rested on the door handle. It was soon about to be pushed down, so that we could enter bathroom she shared with Jeremy.
"I know," she answered with a sigh. "But I have to do this." I rolled my eyes and was about to turn to go back to lay down on Elena's soft, comfy bed – pushing away thoughts concerning my own potentially broken one at my flat – when I felt a hand firmly wrap itself around my wrist. "We have to do this."
"Uuuuh! 'Kay!" I grunted out, my face turned to the ceiling, before following Elena as she took the few steps through the bathroom to Jeremy's door.
Before opening the final door, Elena glanced over her shoulder to peer back at me, bracing herself with a deep breath. She turned the handle. The strong light from the bathroom made it absolutely impossible to see anything when scouting into Jeremy's dark interior.
"Jeremy, we have to talk about all this," Elena stated, taking a step further into the room. Her fingers absentmindedly began to pick on her cuticles. Staying, I leaned against the doorframe with my arms folded over my chest. I was here, like Elena wanted, but forget that I'd go in any further.
"No, we really don't," Jeremy retorted, throwing his phone onto the bed.
"I don't know what Anna told you, but there are things that you need to know," Elena carefully approached.
"Yeah?" Jeremy rose up from his bed and moved closer, mimicking my action of folding his arms. "Because I'm pretty sure that your journal covered it." Elena's what now?
"Do you write everything down in that?" I exclaimed from the door frame. Elena ignored me.
"You read my journal?" she instead questioned.
"And save me the speech about invasion of privacy, because I read a section about Damon erasing my memory, about what happened to Vicki." Uh-oh. Jeremy's eyes hardened on Elena.
"Jeremy, please, you don't understand," Elena began her defence with a step towards Jer. "The night that Vicki died… it was like Mom and Dad died all over again. It was all over your face and it hurt so much to see you like that. I just wanted to take your pain away."
"And you let her," Jeremy directed over Elena's head, towards me. At his hard eyes, I straightened my posture.
"Something's are better off not being remembered, Jer," I said quietly. He huffed.
"Just get out," was Jeremy's only response, his glare flying between me and Elena.
"No. Jeremy–" I only spotted Elena's back, but I didn't have to see much else to know that she was close to tears, her trembling voice giving her away.
"Stop! Just get out. Please," Jeremy spoke firmly. Actually, I would've preferred some yelling over his cold anger crap.
"Jer, listen…" I began, pushing myself off the doorframe, but Elena turned around with a surrendering shake of her head to grab me by my arm, dragging me out of the room before I even had a chance to finish my sentence.
The door was shut right in my face by a glaring Jeremy as soon as we had crossed the threshold, and Elena and I simply stood there in the yellow, illuminated bathroom and stared at the closed door for a moment. Until I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore.
"So. That went well."
With a sigh, Elena retreated into her room and slumped down on her bed, reaching for a pillow to bury her face in. With a roll of my eyes, I followed to seat myself beside her.
"Here I thought this day couldn't get any more dramatic," Elena's muffled voice complained.
"You and me both," I sighed and drew a hand through my messy hair.
It had taken the entire car ride back from the Grill for my sister to calm down enough to actually listen to the whole story surrounding Damon, instead of just yelling at me. Once she was done with that, we had remained in the comfortable seats and continued discussing the matter; and by 'we' I of course meant Elena, and by 'discussing' I meant lecturing. Without a shadow of a doubt, I could safely state that she definitely didn't support my decision. On top of that, I was still not too keen on the inevitable confrontation with Damon about the whole thing, but mainly what Isobel had said. Even now, I just wanted to grunt and go underground. Disappear.
Of course, when we finally had gone inside the house, Elena just had to decide that a conversation with Jeremy was needed, since he had been kidnapped by her vampire mother. Clearly, it had only been a waste of time and effort Still, I would make sure to have a another chat with Jer about the matter when we could do it on my terms; aka, yell a lot.
In an attempt to relieve some tension in my neck, I rotated my head, all whilst eyeing a large painting of a horse drawn in graphite, that hung above Elena's bed. She continued rambling on about the problems that had popped up during the past few days, mainly focusing on a detailed version about what had happened earlier today, during my time out filled with drinking. Feeling obliged, probably by my pedantic father's spirit lingering in the house, I rose up from the bed to move and fix the black frame that hung obliquely against the bleak, yellow wallpaper. As I did this, a small, light green binder fell out from behind it, bouncing off the black bed frame to land on the sheets next to Elena's face, which was still covered by her pillow. Quickly, she removed the white bundle of feathers to stare up at me with wide eyes.
"Jeremy found it, Elena," I said. Before my sister could as much as make a move, I had snatched the diary. "You need a better hiding place," I stated, opening the light green book to flip through the first of the yellowish pages. Elena threw her pillow at me, which I easily dodged, before she jumped up from the bed, moving to wrestle the diary out of my grip.
"Hey! Stop that!" Her arms flung after it, by I held her off with ease. However, my teasing smirk disappeared as I glimpsed a certain entry from a few months ago. Roughly, I closed the binder at my sister's words in a special entry about none other then her dear, big sissy.
"You think that I'm insensitive and selfish?" I asked, pointing at her with the book in my hand.
"Parker!" Elena huffed, snatching the binder from me. "It's rude to read someone else's–"
"Don't dodge," I scolded. She quieted, fingers turning white as she hugged her diary.
"It's a diary," she defended with a faint shrug. "People write stupid things in them."
"And apparently pours their heart out about everything concerning vampires," I scoffed.
"Look, I know it wasn't–"
"Save it," I bit off. Elena's eyes widened at my harsh tone. Even if we were sisters, I rarely snapped so harshly at her. "You're getting off subject. You wrote that." I pointed strictly at the small binder. "Is that really what you think about me?"
"I– Well… You do these things… And…" She sighed, collecting herself. "Look. You left, Parks. Didn't even show up at Mom and Dad's funeral. It hurt." If only she knew why. Elena's doe eyes turned even more troubled; two fights with two different siblings in a matter of minutes. Painful, to say the least.
"It was a long time ago," I trailed off.
"And so was it since I wrote this," Elena argued and waved with her diary in hand. Still, it stung.
I wasn't ignorant; I already knew that I was seen a selfish. Often disregard other people's feelings before opening my mouth. But hearing it from my sister! Somehow, that just hurt more deep.
"Whatever." I pushed my way past her to get to the door. I couldn't stand another argument with Elena – which was saying something – our relationship was rocky enough as it was. Usually, I enjoyed the fighting, actually even it a little too much for my own good. But just not with her.
"Hey! Stop." Elena's palm shut the door as my hand was inches away from making my escape. "Can we not?" she pleaded, dipping her head down to force my gaze to meet hers. With a sigh, I raised my head from the floor. "You're not exactly making it easy," I stated, folding my arms.
"Funny, I was about to say the same," Elena retorted. Okay, point taken. "I'm sorry for writing it. But I still love you," she added, a bit softer; it was really all that was needed for the ice throne in my heart to thaw.
"It's fine." I waved off, strolling back to sit down on Elena's bed. "I've got much bigger problems on my mind." Like Damon, whose head popped into my mind as I stared at the pointy shadows cast by a big tree just outside Elena's window.
"Wanna talk about it?" Elena tried, placing aside her diary, yet her eyes still scanning her room, as if looking for a new hiding place.
"Nah, I'm good." I grabbed the light-green binder from where my sister had put it, my eyes wandering to land on her white dresser. Quietly, I moved to tuck it into the bottom of the drawer filled with lace underwear. "I don't think Jeremy will go looking for it in there," I smirked, inspiring a laugh from Elena. "Mind if I sleep over?" I went on to ask as soon her laugh had died down.
"Of course not. But you can't avoid him forever," Elena pointed out as she digged out an old, oversized t-shirt for me to sleep in, her voice turning bitter when uttering 'him'. Couldn't she even speak Damon's name anymore? With my back once again hitting the soft mattress, I caught the bundle she threw at me. Smoothing out the fabric revealed 'Whitmore College' written in big, bold, red letters over the otherwise grey chest. Whatever memories wanted up to the surface from my visits there with Dad, were firmly pushed down; one painfully reminding flash from my youth at a time here.
"I'm just gathering my strength for it," I said and pulled my own shirt over my head. "I'll be more than ready to take the confrontation soon enough. Trust me. I just need some time."
JUNE 2009
The damp grass sparkled in the bleak sunlight, drops of water left from the chilly night clinging to the green strands. Even this early, it was clear it would be a beautiful day. However, the rays of the sun had not yet turned warm as a crowd gathered around two black coffins, awaiting to be lowered into the earth. The sobs could be heard from across the cemetery, causing even the coldest stone hearts to melt into a mere puddle.
Like my own for instance. Its beating felt more like a tremble than a steady rhythm. Watching all the people before me dressed in black, desperately trying to wipe their tears away, all in vain. The black nail polish that had sat to dry on my nails just last night was already chipped and bitten off, my fingers now instead busying themselves with plucking at the hem of my black blouse.
If observing from the far made me this nervous, how the hell would I ever be able to approach the scene? I hadn't even seen any of my siblings yet! But I already knew that the mere sight of them would probably make my heart break, whether they were crying uncontrollably or simply standing stiffly as if staring out a the vast void.
The crowd was large, not so surprising. Of course dear Miranda and reliable Grayson Gilbert were loved by the entire community, small or not. Amongst the many figures I glimpsed the bouncing curls of a blonde head, as the girl they sat on cried into the shoulder of a shorter figure. Caroline's sobs echoed over the graves all the way to my place among the deciduous tree, her back gently being patted by someone who I could only presume was Juliette Walters, judging by her blonde bob. Which would mean that Suzanne Walters – aka the Principal from hell – wasn't far away. Taking a step back, I made sure that I was hidden in the shadows, my black suit pants, black boots and dark blue blazer perfectly melting into the settings. As if this whole situation wasn't bad enough already; I wasn't all too keen on meeting that bitch as well.
Caroline's and Juliette's blonde manes were the only familiar attributes I could hint in the large crowd, mainly because they were the only ones who didn't force their gazes into the grass. However, I might also have glimpsed Liz in a black dress; she seemed out of place, with her usual uniform discarded. Under normal circumstances, she would be trying to put me in handcuffs, but that was a long time ago now.
A girl with dark complexion and a heart-shaped face framed by black curls caught my eye next as my gaze swept over the gathering again; Bonnie-Bear. And she looked so grown-up! As did Caroline and Juliette, I now noted as they stepped closer to the dark-haired girl. They stood in a gathered troop, almost awaiting someone. Caroline and Bonnie were crying, while Juliette just looked very uncomfortable and out of place, rubbing her blonde friend's back.
My musings about what they were waiting for didn't have to twirl around in my head for much longer, as a slender figure dressed in a black, loose dress with her dark brown hair swept back and gathered into a low ponytail limped towards them.
Elena.
Her arm was looped with Jeremy's, who seemed very much out of place in his undoubtedly newly purchased suit. What an event to buy his very first suit for… In an attempt to keep my heart from breaking at the sight of my siblings standing side by side, I made this observation to, as well as letting my thoughts plow on instead of focusing on the growing pit in my stomach. Elena must have recently been released from the hospital.
Only a few weeks ago, when I had last visited this forsaken dump of a town, she had still been laying in one of those stiff hospital beds with sticky sheets, impossible to awake; believe me, I had tried. Turns out violently shaking someone who was in a coma didn't work to wake them up. Who knew? The doctors, actually. They were pretty clear about that after the hospital's security had dragged me away from the bed occupied by my sister's limp body.
A strawberry blonde head and a familiar man dressed in a simple but still fitting suit appeared behind Jeremy, who by the way were rocking a pair of black shades – probably to hide his red eyes, dried out from crying. Jenna held back a glare when John lead her forward with his hand on her lower back. Euw. Can't say I wanted to see that.
Why was I torturing myself like this? I could barely even look at my little sister! I wanted to approach and embrace her, pull my baby bro into a hug as well. Let them both cry into each of my shoulders and mourn our parents together. But I just couldn't. Now matter how much I wanted to.
I shouldn't have come here.
With my back against the uneven bark of an oak tree, my body sank to the ground, all whilst I completely ignored my dark clothing being soiled by chips of wood. I had to dig through my blazer's pocket for quite some time, still watching the crowd beyond a vast space stretching out before me, full of so many familiar faces, bowing their heads down as the sad tunes of a violin filled the cemetery. Finally, as my heart couldn't bear more of the music, my fingers clasped around my phone. Thankfully, I had the number that was racing through my mind on speed dial, causing a sigh of relief since my shaking fingers didn't have to attempt to dial the digits.
The beeping signals echoing into my ear combined with the sad violin somehow made my heart wither away into even tinier pieces.
"Yes?" a monotone voice finally answered.
"Hunter?" I pinned my eyes shut as I pulled my legs up to make my knees meet my chest, resting my forehead in the palm of my hand. "You were right. I can't do this."
"Say no more," the voice commanded. Nodding, I took a deep breath. "Jack is waiting just around the corner."
I nodded again, and felt a small tear force its way from my eye down my cheek. I froze. My free hand came to my chin to catch the small drop before it rolled off and fell down onto my chest. In amazement, I moved to watch my slightly damp finger. I hadn't cried in…only God knew how long! I'd even forgotten what it felt; as well as the ache it came with. The hollowness that swallowed me; numbed my body and my mind; leaving me whimpering along with my heart, which was cracking into a million, tiny pieces.
"Parker?" Hunter's distant voice called through the phone, worry sneaking into it; very rare.
"I'm…" Fine? Okay? Both were huge lies, and I'd promised Hunter to never tell him another untruthful statement ever again, just as he had promised the same. "Alive," I settled on.
"Get to Jack," Hunter ordered, but an intake of air stopped me from instantly ending the call. After a long, silent pause of awaiting his answer, my thinning patience was rewarded. "This is what they wanted to spare you from."
Curling my fists into stones, I felt a fire ignite within me. It filled every inch of my body, replacing the previously numbing sadness to give me new strength.
"Look how that worked out," I seethed.
"I know," Hunter admitted, quietly. "But this is what I wanted to spare you from as well." When it came to express affection, this was as close as you could get to it with Hunter. My boiling blood calmed down a bit, as my fists relaxed.
"We both know that you can't spare people from heartache. Sometimes doing so can hurt them more," I reminded him, as I tired to keep my voice from cracking.
"I'm aware of that, too. But Cassandra is alive thanks to you," Hunter pointed out. If my heart hadn't been breaking before, it was nothing like the pain that was filling it now. Physical pain. A bullet penetrating my shoulder or fire peeling off my skin was nothing in comparison to this heartache.
"I have enough painful memories as it is," I grunted into the phone. She may be alive and free, but it had come at a great price that I was now paying. Hunter's silence was enough for me to know that he took my anger like a brick wall.
"Come back to base, Agent Shaw. Jack is still waiting." With his cold voice roaming through my head, I ended the call. The frosty ending of the conversation could only mean that Hunter had no longer been alone in his office. He seemed to be getting more and more visits from the ones upstairs these days.
A bad sign.
A few blocks away, just as promised, a black BMW-7 patiently stood by the sidewalk, awaiting me. Even after the five minute walk, my legs were still shaking slightly, my thick heels clicking against the pavement. But my single tear had dried long ago, and I had left the sobbing crowd behind without a single glance over my shoulder, closing my heart off once more. Throwing away the key.
Okay. A lie.
Another tear may have rolled down my cheek as I had risen up from the earthy ground, taking support against the oak tree to survey the sad bundle of townspeople dressed in black. All my protective walls fell down to crumble to dust as I had laid eyes on my sobbing sister clinging on to my trembling brother. But I was doing this for them. Backing away and staying away was protecting them from far greater dangers than the aching sadness caused by deceased parents. This was for the best.
At first, the car door refused to open when I pulled at it. I janked at it one more time, before I lost my sliver of patience and smashed my fist into the car window. It gave up a pleasing crack, and the door finally unlocked with a click.
"Not in the mood," I told the man in the driver's seat, without as much as a glance his way.
"Come on!" Jack coaxed. "It was a little funny. Admit it." Refusing to respond, I only glared at the empty road ahead. "Fine," he gave in and turned on the engine, preparing to hatch another one-liner.
"They're gone," I interrupted his intake of breath. "Dead," I added, sinking back into my seat whilst my chest tightened.
Rarely enough, Jack remained quiet as a mouse for a good few minutes. His hand traveled through his brown, slicked back mane, and I finally turned to peer at his W-shaped, receding hairline – always fun to point out and tease him about, as it seemed to be the only thing that ever got to him – and his usual tanned complexion, even darker now, which was the only clue to his recent visit in Thailand.
"It hurts. But it gets better," Jack said, simply, pausing for a moment to let the words sink in, before he pulled the gearshift into go and pressed down on the gas with his brown dress boots.
"When?" Only a month had gone by, but it sure as hell wasn't feeling any better. In fact, the pain had done the very opposite, and increased.
"Beats me." Jack shrugged, and I glared at him. "Don't give me that look, Missy. If I knew, I'd tell you. Pain sticks around. Physical pain leaves scars that sometimes fade, while heartache never really heals."
"How reassuring," I spoke through gritted teeth.
"Stop interrupting me," Jack scolded me with a finger waving into my face. I scoffed at it as his gaze never left the road unfolding before us, now bordered with big, fancy houses instead of the thick forest that surrounded the cemetery. "It gets easier to live with. You learn to," he finished, hazel eyes leaving the road momentarily to check on me. "You okay? Do I need to call in the Rock for a therapeutic hugging session?"
"I'm good, thanks," I responded with a roll of my eyes.
"Sure? He's only a quick phone call away," Jack offered, pulling his phone out from the inner pocket of his black, leather jacket to dangle it in front of me temptingly.
"Positive." A small smirk reluctantly spread out, and I quickly turned my head away to hide it.
Jack might have been a douche who couldn't stay serious for more than five minutes, always itching to drop a one-liner, but when he tried to be sweet you just couldn't help but appreciate the effort. Especially when the story of a woman lying dead, spread out on a kitchen table with a chequered tablecloth in red and white, blood seeping out to turn the fabric solely forever red, echoed through my mind together with the sound of raining bullets. Jack's way of coping was playing everything off as a joke, a strategy I myself had grown to adopt more and more over the course of the past couple of years.
"Now that I think about it," I spoke up as the car drove past a sign, informing us that we were driving onto the highway heading towards Washington, "I'm craving a good cheese pizza. Brock probably has some extra cash lying around." The combination of food and a successful attempt at cheering me up was enough for Jack let out a victorious raise of his fist.
"Yes!"
"You dork," I commented, with another roll of my eyes.
"Why thank you! Such a nice compliment."
My smile might still have been sad when I listened in on Jack's and Brock's conversation rumbling through the speaker that was connected to the car, hearing them bicker like an old married couple, but even so I enjoyed the distraction. The image of Elena's and Jer's red and swollen faces as they stood next to the coffins still made my heart ache, but I could live with the pain. I had managed to pull through so much worse already. I would learn to live with this too.
I had no other choice.