CHAPTER 2
Today was the day. Elena had to tell Stefan that she still loved him. Okay yes, it was her idea to break up but that didn't mean she just stopped loving him. She was just confused, she thought she had feelings for Damon but she was just scared. She was afraid she would screw things up with Stefan, so she made an excuse to get out of it.
She walked down the street towards the boarding house. It was just turning to winter and the last of the leaves had just fallen off of the trees. A cold wind blew, lightly brushing against Elena's face. She shivered and crossed her arms close to her, still feeling the chill beneath her navy blue turtleneck.
What Elena saw through out of the corner of her eye, though, stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned to look at the scene that was playing out fully. Stefan was visible through the open window of a foyer. He was in the Michaelson house, with him, was Rebekah. Rebekah stepped towards Stefan, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek as he embraced her.
Elena hated Rebekah. As soon as she and Stefan were broken up, Rebekah rushed in to take her place. Sure, Rebekah was a vampire like Stefan and she'd known him since his 'Ripper' days, but she wasn't right for him. Elena was made perfectly for Stefan – or so she thought.
"No!" Elena growled. "He's mine. He is mine!"
Elena kept on her original track and stamped towards the boarding house. She pulled the key out of her pocket as she took the final steps towards the house. She fumbled with the key amidst her frustration but eventually unlocked the door.
She stomped up the stairs and into Stefan's room. She quickly scanned the room and headed for the desk drawer; that would be the obvious place to keep it. She rifled through the drawers, but it wasn't there. She kicked the leg of the desk in aggravation.
"Come on Stefan! I know it's here somewhere, but where would you keep it?" she thought aloud.
She then scanned the room once again, and headed for the bookshelf. She started to take out each journal carefully, and place it back, as if she were never there. Each journal was the same. Brown, leather-bound, and thick, one journal, however, felt…heavy.
Elena opened it up to the middle page and there it was, placed in a perfectly cut-out hole in the pages, it was there. She took it out carefully and replaced it with her pocket knife, then put the journal back neatly.
She strode out of the room confidently. She had what she needed to make Stefan hers again; she had the dagger.