A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that lightness. It's crushing that emptiness
Caroline Forbes
For years afterwards, Caroline tried to keep her life as normal as possible; considering just how un-normal it actually was. She tried to forget while her family and friends were growing old and would eventually face their own mortality, she would remain the seventeen year old beauty queen.
When she had to finally move away from Mystic Falls, she was allegedly twenty one years old and people were beginning to notice that she hadn't aged a day. She packed up her life, told her mother and the blissfully ignorant to the supernatural world that she was moving to Chicago for university, and then fled to the large city in the Midwest where she could begin her life over again.
Damon came to visit her six months later, when he finally left Mystic Falls. He and Stefan had been pushing their limits by staying in the one place for so long and it was time to disappear again before the whisperings of 1864 could resurface.
He tsk-ed in slight disapproval as he looked around her apartment at the photos of her mother and her father, of Bonnie and Elena and Caroline in high school, of Matt and of Tyler. His lips formed a thin smirk as he noticed all the small decorations she had collected to make the apartment a home.
"What?" She finally snapped at him, unable to take any more of his judgement. If he wanted to play a twisted parental role in her life, then he could tell her what she was doing wrong instead of letting her struggle through it herself.
"Nothing," he smiled at her cheekily and she considered throttling him; she could probably take him on. "It's just, you sure you want all of this here?"
"Stefan…Stefan told me to try and not let go of my humanity, that stability was important." She took a deep breath as she recalled what the other Salvatore brother had told her before she left Mystic Falls; before he had disappeared without a word to anyone.
"My brother also kept a photo hidden away for one hundred and forty five years, and look where he is now." He pointed out; picking up a framed photo of herself and Elena at the last Miss Mystic Falls pageant they both participated in.
But of course Damon didn't stick around Chicago, so Caroline kept the last shreds of familiarity in her life.
She was twenty five when she had to move again, sooner than she thought, because the senile woman that lived the floor above her was beginning to talk about Caroline finding the fountain of youth, and how the pretty young girl didn't look a day over eighteen.
She left pretty fast actually, had everything packed and ready to go in one night.
She tried not to let the usurping isolation bring her down when she became even more of an anonymous face in the bright lights of New York City.
Damon appeared again, reluctantly bringing a still-human Elena with him; and his disapproval was glaringly obvious as she let them into her apartment. The photos were still up, the decorations were still there.
Caroline wants to cling on Elena and never let her out of the apartment again. She laughs bitterly when she remembered feeling alone in high school, because that was nothing compared to what she goes through now. She can't even begin to entertain the thought of maintaining a long term relationship, or even friendship, because what is she going to tell them? When they get laugh lines and eventually grey hairs, how is she meant to explain her looks?
How is she meant to explain the interesting choice of contents in her fridge?
It might be difficult, but she knows in the long run that being alone is for the best.
Slowly, the decorations get boxed up and put away in storage. She justifies this simply as easier considering how often she's moving; they're still there, they're just in a safe spot where she can't lose anything.
The photos start to disappear when she's in England. Her apartment's too small for them all, she begins to justify everything all over again. They're only going into photo albums. It's easier this way, especially when she invites people into her apartment. After all, she hasn't aged a day since some of those photos have been taken.
Damon's silent the next time he tracks her down, to make sure she's still alive for lack of a better word. She's spread out on her couch, flipping through a fashion magazine, only half-listening to the music coming out of her radio.
He looks around at the apartment when she refuses to acknowledge his presence in her home. There are no personal effects on display, nothing except for the bare furniture and the small collection of fashion magazines thrown around on the coffee table.
He pushes her feet off the couch, collapsing down next to her as she turns another page.
"It's easier this way," he promises her.
"This isn't a real life," she mumbles back.
