A.N.) Hey everybody! This is the next chapter! Thank you to Lilithcase39girl, RockaRosalie, vampirelove41, pinklips20, and pinklips20 for writing a review for chapter 2. I truly appreciate each of your reviews! :)
I have a poll on my author's page on who Katherine should be paired with, so feel free to vote on that or you can write your answer in a review! Also, if you have any suggestions for who Bella should be paired with, feel free to tell me! :)
Enjoy!
~UnicornNinja12
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the Vampire Diaries or even Spike (he's from Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel)
BPOV
WHACK! "Wake up! You're screaming in your sleep again!" WHACK! WHACK!
I suddenly wake up and see the elderly lady who sat next me on the plane standing beside me, cane in hand.
"We've arrived," she announces before walking away.
"Thank you!" I say as she is about to exit the plane. She shakes her cane at me before walking off the plane. What did I do to her? I smirk and grab my stuff before exiting the plane. Mystic Falls, here I come!
*BOS*
My excitement almost couldn't be contained as we entered into Mystic Falls, but I held it together for the cab driver. I'm pretty sure it would weird him out if I just started bouncing up and down in my seat. Normally I am a fairly calm person and can control my emotions, but this trip could redefine my life. I know Mother said that my father had died, but I want, no, need to know him. Was his name Damon or Stefan? When did he live? When did he die? Did he go to war? Did he know that my mother was pregnant? I just... I just want to know my parents. Katherine is adamant that I do not know of her life and to this day, I am unsure what it is she does or why she does it. But as she has admitted, whatever she does is usually followed by chaos.
The cab came to a stop in front of the Mystic Falls Public Library. I quickly grab a $100 bill and when the driver turns to tell me the fare, I give him the money and tell him to keep the change. He smiles and I gather my items and leave the cab.
Libraries contained so many good books, I always get preoccupied in a book and today would be no different. Except today would all be research. I quickly navigated my way to MysticFallsHeritageCenter and immediately went in search of death records in the later months of 1864 and early months of 1865. I hadn't thought there would be so many deaths within a short period of time. None of the deaths in 1864 mentioned a 'Damon' or 'Stefan', so I moved to early 1865.
It was on January 22, 1865 that I got two hits. One being 'Damon Salvatore' and the other being 'Stefan Salvatore.' Great. Katherine's mentioned both names. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. Looking closer, I notice a date I recognize: June 28, 1840. June 28. The very day Katherine came in 1922 announcing that it was somebody's birthday! Of course! My father's birthday! The biggest smile crosses my face as I finally find out who my father was: Damon Salvatore.
I begin searching in books for any pictures of Damon Salvatore, starting with books about the Founding Families. Pages slightly tear in my haste to find his image, but I don't focus on that, all that matters is seeing him.
I finally arrive at a page with his picture in it. There he was, dressed in his Confederate uniform, happily smiling next to slightly shorter man dressed in a fashionable suit. The words below the picture confirmed my belief that the Confederate soldier was my father Damon and next to him was Stefan, his brother. My uncle.
I lightly touch the image of my father. Katherine was right, he did look like me. Damon had given me his pale skin and sharp features, although my features were slightly softer, more feminine. Tears begin forming in my eyes. My father looked so happy. How could life be so cruel as to end my father's life so young? Tears begin to fall at the thought that he was, indeed, dead. Life isn't fair sometimes.
I close the book and hold it to my chest, lost in my thoughts.
"Can I help you with anything?" an elderly lady asks, bringing me back to the present. I wipe my eyes before turning toward her. "Are you okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice.
"Erm... yeah, I am," I say before clearing my throat and offering a small smile, "Sorry about that, I just was reading about my family."
The lady nods empathetically before saying, "I know what you mean." She looks at the book in my hands and looks at me in shock. "Are you related to one of the Founding Families?" she asks, surprise coloring her face.
I smile and look down in embarrassment. "Yes," I say a blush coloring my cheeks, "I am related to one of the Founding Families, but I don't think my father knows about me."
A warm smile covers the lady's face as she tries to get more information out of me. "I see," she drawls out before excitedly asking, "You're an illegitimate child then? Of whom? Is it one the Lockwood's? The sluts! "
I chuckle and shake my head. "I descend from the Salvatore's," I say after I stop chuckling.
"Salvatore's? Huh... didn't see that one coming... Zach that rascal! Is Zach your father then?"
Zach? "Yes," I say simply, going along with it. There. I now have a cover story! "But he doesn't know, well, at least I don't think he does." I stare at the ground pensively not sure what to say next.
"You've heard about the Founding Family's sons right? The Salvatore brothers? I assume that is what you were looking at when I came in. Tragic, if you ask me."
I am unsure what she was talking about, but I agree anyways.
"Such heroes Damon and Stefan were, even in the end," she says reflectively, "Such good looking men." She begins shifting through a stack of books and pictures and hands me another picture of Damon and Stefan. "Aren't they?"
"Possibly the handsomest men I have seen," I say memorizing my father's face. After a moment of staring, I say recalling they had been shot, "It was a heroic, yet tragic death."
"I can understand your tears then," she says understandingly before looking outside and saying, "But I am surprised that a young lady such as yourself in here alone when there is a carnival in town. Shouldn't you be out?"
I look down embarrassed that I hadn't noticed that coming into town. "I'll be honest, I didn't notice it. I just came into town and I was, and still am, eager to learn about my family."
"Oh, you should be out having fun, not inside the library looking at books!"
It's bizarre to hear those words from a librarian, I think to myself.
"Take the book and picture and keep it, we've got plenty of the same books and you should be out there with all the other teenagers," the elderly lady insists, grabbing my upper arm and starts pushing me out of the room.
"Are you sure?" I ask, feeling guilty. Even though she is giving me the book and picture, I still feel as if I am stealing them. "I am willing to buy them."
The elderly lady waves her hand at me in a nonchalant manner. "Please, we've got plenty of these kinds of books and besides, you need to learn about your family! Take it! Odds are you won't be able to find many books on your family outside of little MysticFalls!"
"If you are sure-"
"Of course I'm sure! What's the point in running a library if you can't give out any of the books!" The elderly lady has me in front of one of the exits already. "Now go out there and have some fun! You've got plenty of time to be old! Be young while you still can!"
"Sure," I say chuckling and opening the door, "Thank you so much! You have been incredibly kind."
She sends me a found smile before saying, "The night is young and so are you. Live it up."
I smile and walk away from the library. Young? I am flattered, but I will always be young; I've never had the option of being old.
*BOS*
After checking in at the closest motel, I immediately closed all the curtains to the room. Knowing my luck Katherine would be close by and send me back to Utah when there still some things I wanted to find out. The sensible side of me was telling me that closing the curtains was smart, but I would need to stay inside the room as much as possible if I wanted to avoid getting caught. But the whole reason I was spending the night here was to gain some closure, to say farewell to my father. I rebelled against my Mother and no matter what I'll get in trouble, so trying to find my father's grave should be worth the risk.
I place the book and the pictures of my father inside my bag beneath the dresser to, hopefully, prevent it from getting stolen if Mother decides to raid my room. Then I begin to plan what I should wear.
I decide to put on a formal black sweater with a simple black skirt and fishnet stockings. I quickly put on my black leather jacket before searching for a pair of shoes. After putting on some ballet flats, I quickly put light layer of eyeliner around my eyes and put on some mascara before walking out into the night.
The sky was black by the time I made it into the cemetery. I knew that my father's grave wouldn't be in the newer section and somewhere wooded. With the moon lighting my way, I hastily walk through the cemetery.
I'm not ashamed to say that in my haste to find my father's grave, I ran into several gravestones and tripped over several more.
It took me sometime, but I eventually stumbled (quite literally) over a grave with a familiar name: Giuseppe Salvatore. My mind went back to the research I had done and realized that this man was the father of my father. Looking beside my grandfather's grave, I spotted my father's mother. I smile triumphantly, knowing that my father's grave was close. Sure enough, my father's grave was beside my grandmother's grave.
On the walk to the cemetery, I had bought a rose from a vendor along the streets for my father. Pulling the rose from my jacket, I place it in front of my father's grave. Despite being inside my jacket for the duration of the walk, the rose didn't wrinkle over the trip. I stand up and stare down at my father's grave in silence, my thoughts only consisting of him.
I had only been standing there for a few minutes when a strange feeling came over me. It felt as if something in me was pulling me further into the woods. I began to follow the feeling through the woods.
I eventually came to a tree line that marked the end of the woods and caught sight of the carnival the elderly librarian had mentioned earlier. The sounds of rides, music, and talking filled the air, instantly bringing a faint smile to my lips.
A pained cry grabs my attention, my eyes focusing in on the noise. A young man dressed in all black lays crippled on the ground with his head between his hands as a crying young girl glares contemptuously down at him from a distance. Is he being attacked by a witch? I begin walking toward the group.
A water faucet turns on, seemingly on its own. This is not good sign. I begin walking faster. Witches and their shenanigans; sometimes I think they can be worse than vampires.
"I told you what would happen if anyone else got hurt," the witch said, her tears finally stopping.
"I didn't do this," the man grounds out in pain.
"Bonnie, it wasn't his fault," the girl beside the witch.
"Everything that happens is his fault Elena," she says back.
"Bonnie, what are you doing?" The water coming from the hose is now fire and it is heading toward the man.
"What is it that you are doing?" I ask, making my presence known. It's always risky dealing with witches, especially if the witch is pissed. Needless to say I was feeling pretty nervous.
This breaks the witch's focus, turning off the flames and the man is no longer screaming. She must be a newer witch.
It's silent for a moment with none of us really sure what to do or say next.
I carefully watch the witch, trying to figure out her next move. Her eyes study me as well, unsure what to make of me.
"Who are you?" she asks me.
I frown and after a moment say, "Bella. And you?"
"Bonnie." She takes a step toward me. "So what brings you here?"
I remain where I was. "Someone screaming," I say, "Then I saw fire coming from over there." I pointed toward the hose. "Needless to say, I was nervous."
Her eyes widen nervously. She should be nervous; nearly frying a person to death is not something most people take lightly. Add the fact that witchcraft was used to control the fire and you have a witch hunt.
I look down at the man on the ground. His dark hair, dark features, and pale skin reminded me of my father's picture. Shaking away the connection, I focus on the present. After all, my father died a long time ago.
I crouch down beside the man. "Are you okay?" I ask concerned, "You sounded like you were in so much pain. Do you need me to call a doctor?"
The man looks into my eyes and instantly I make that connection to my father. There was no doubt in me; this was my father or at least some sort of look alike.
"Father?" I question.
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