The Salvatore Sister
Chapter Twenty-Five – A Heart-to-Heart
Disclaimer: I only own Amelia and her little plot twists.
"Took you long enough, Amelia."
Okay, so I had two theories: either I was dreaming, which was highly possible and the much preferred theory; or I was dead and this was some god or spirit or whatever welcoming me to wherever vampires go when they die, which would kind of suck. I honestly couldn't describe the voice that had randomly popped up in my mind or wherever the voice was coming from (it seemed to be coming from everywhere – everywhere being the pitched black surroundings which was all I could see): it was neither a feminine voice nor a masculine; it was neither soft nor shrill; loud nor quiet; squeaky nor gruff – it just…was.
"Um...what the hell?" I asked, discovering I could talk, which is always a bonus. Can you talk when you're dead?
"Really, most people notice when their body is being shared," The Voice replied, "But no, you had to wait until you were shot multiple times to notice."
"Um…what?" I replied dumbly, "Who are you? And what the hell is going on?"
"If you knew who I was that would take all the fun out of everything," The Voice continued, "I'm enjoying watching your oh so dramatic life... For the most part."
Okay, it's official; this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me. Hands down.
"...I'm dreaming, right?" I lamely – and hopefully - asked.
"Well, I wouldn't call it dreaming," said The Voice, "But you're in a sub-cerebral state."
"A sub-what-state?"
"Cerebral," it clarified, "Basically you're just inside your own mind right now. I brought you in here. It just took you being shot a few times to manage but here you are."
"This is so freaking weird," I mumbled to myself, "Please tell me what the hell is going on?"
"Well," The Voice continued, elongating the sound of the word, "Right now your body is lying in the old Lockwood cellar, and Liz Forbes is shooting you over, and over, and over again in the stomach to make your oh-so-gorgeous twin brother talk. He looks like he's in pain.
"Well, I guess being shot does that to you…But it looks like you being shot is hurting him more…And speaking of pain, the way she's laying bullets into you is going to hurt when you wake up. Ohhh, ouch. That one's gotta hurt…"
"Wow," I said simply, "Whoever you are – and I'm not even sure if this is really happening – but you sure can talk a hell of a lot of bullshit."
"I know, I've been in your body for far too long," The Voice replied, and I didn't even register the fact I should be offended by that, "Your thoughts bleed into me. It's tragic really: your brothers choosing Elena over you. That sucks."
"Shut up," I snapped, "They didn't…They haven't chosen her over me." Not yet.
"Yup, not yet," The Voice continued, and again I didn't even realise that I hadn't even said "not yet" out loud – but then I guess, if someone's inside your mind they tend to be able to read your thoughts – right? (Wow, look at me talking as if this is normal).
"But they will," it elaborated, "It's only a matter of time."
"Look," I began, "Would you just please be a doll and get the hell out of my head, or body, or whatever…"
"I don't think so. We've worked for too long for this. I'm going to see it through."
"See what through?"
"My lips are sealed," The Voice taunted, "Well, they would be if I still had them."
"You're making no freaking sense," I replied, "Have I lost all sanity or something…?"
"Maybe," it answered, "But it's more likely 'or something'…"
"Um… so let me get this straight: you've just decided to get inside my body, bring me inside my own mind and now you're talking to me from inside my head?"
"Well, that's the simplified version, yes…" The Voice said, then suddenly continued, sounding much more rushed than before: "I have to go, you're waking up. You might not hear from me for a while, but I'm still here. Watching."
"Well, that's not perverted at all," I muttered, "Oh, and by the way, you should really stop saying the word 'well' like you do – it's freaking annoying." And I was just I'd heard it said like that somewhere before…
"Oh, and before I forget," The Voice continued like I hadn't spoken at all, "I don't want you to remember this. Just like you forgot your little 'encounter' with Elena."
"What encounter with Elena?" I asked, suspicion lacing my tone. As far as I was aware I hadn't had any encounter with Elena, well, obviously I had, but being in the same room as the annoying slut-bag wouldn't really class as an 'encounter' – especially not in the mysterious way The Voice had said it.
"You'll find out soon enough," The Voice answered, "I'll just mess with your head for a little while longer. Until next time, Amelia."
"Wait!" I called into the darkness but then all of a sudden I didn't know what I was calling for, everything was silent, and then my eyes began to open…
The room I had awoken in was dark and dingy when I was sure the last place I had been conscious was outside. What had even happened? Damon, Stefan and I had went to corner Mason Lockwood, and then we'd killed him? No, that didn't happen. There were bangs… Like gunshots… At the thought of gunshots a pain erupted in my stomach and thighs so suddenly that I let out a groan of pain.
"Lia, are you alright?" I heard Damon's voice ask from beside me.
I nodded slowly as I forced myself into a sitting position with Damon's help.
"You can drink some deputy blood, come on," Damon urged me, trying to drag me along to a body, that was indeed a deputy, with a large, still bleeding gash in his throat.
With Damon's help I managed to drag my body over to the deputy and drink my fair share of blood from his wound, energy surging through my body from the blood, allowing me to stand up onto my feet, my stomach and thighs still aching slightly with pain. Once I was on my feet I could properly take in my surroundings – and they were strange to say the least: There were two deputies dead on the floor of what looked like an old cellar; Caroline standing in the corner with a thick coating of blood around her mouth and on her chin; Stefan crouched on the floor with a worried Elena by his side; and strangest of all, Caroline's mom, Sheriff Liz, was sitting against the wall, looking around her surroundings, looking horror-struck.
"You need to drink some deputy blood," Damon said, his gaze falling on Stefan who looked like he was struggling to catch his breath.
"No," Stefan snarled, "I'm going to be fine. It's just going to take a little bit longer…"
"Damon's right you know," Caroline piped up from the corner, "If there's ever a time to break your diet…"
"He said he didn't want it, okay?" Elena snapped and I rolled my eyes.
"This is the most unfortunate situation," Damon began, "Two deputies dead. And you."
He turned to Liz, who was watching the scene play out before her with unshed tears in her eyes.
"What am I gonna do with you?" he asked no one in particular.
"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Caroline asked her mother, hopefully, but Liz turned her gaze away from her daughter, "Mom? Mom? Please. Look, I know that we don't get along and that you hate me but I'm your daughter and you'll do this for me, right? Mom, please. He will kill you."
"Then kill me," Liz cried, surprising everyone.
"No!" Caroline squeaked in response.
"I can't take this," Liz sobbed, "Kill me now!"
"But you were gonna drag it out so painfully…" Damon said, in a slow, intimidating voice, as he hoisted Liz up by the upper-arms and the blonde woman flinched at the pain of Damon's grip.
"No, no, no, no, no, no," Caroline begged, her own tears falling freely down her blood stained face.
"Damon, don't!" Stefan called at the same time as Elena cried: "Damon, please!"
"Relax guys," Damon said to the room at large, "No one's killing anybody."
Except whoever killed the deputies, I thought sarcastically. To who that was, I was going to take a wild guess at Caroline, unless she had some jam-filled doughnuts for lunch…
"You're my friend," Damon said, almost affectionately, to Liz who looked both relieved and disappointed at the same time.
Damon then took a look at the two dead deputies sprawled across the floor before he turned to me and said, "We have to clean this up…"
After Damon and I had disposed of the deputies, we all returned to the Boarding House and I immediately headed up to my bathroom to deal with the mess I had gotten into that day. My long, dark hair was tangled with dirt and my skin and now ripped clothes were covered in both my own blood and the blood of Deputy #1. After I took a quick shower and changed into a pair of black leggings and a baggy, plaid shirt, I put my still wet, straggly hair into a high ponytail and headed back downstairs into the living room where I spotted Caroline sitting on the couch herself, her head bowed, her sniffing giving away the fact that she was crying.
"Caroline?" I asked tentatively, stepping fully into the room.
"Oh, hi, Amelia," Caroline said, acting way too chipper to be considered normal, even by her standards, "How are you?"
I ignored her question and asked, "Why are you crying?"
"Oh, it's nothing," she answered, wiping her now blood-free, but still tear covered face, with her sleeve.
"Caroline," I warned, sitting down next to her, with a 'tell-me-or-I-kill-your-first-born-child'-ish look on my face.
Caroline sighed deeply, and said nothing for a few moments before she answered with, "You know Katherine, don't you?"
"I did, once," I answered stiffly, "Why?"
Caroline sniffed again and I noticed fresh tears spring to her eyes.
"Has she been…" I began, trying to figure out how to word my next sentence, "I don't know, threatening you, or…?"
"Kinda, she-" Caroline started but froze and shook her head, burying her face in her hands.
"You can tell me, Caroline," I told her softly, "I know you don't know me well but, believe me, I will understand."
"She's been making me spy on Elena," Caroline said quickly as if she had been having an internal war with herself on whether she should admit to it or not, "Oh god. I'm a horrible person. I'm spying on my best friend."
"You wouldn't do that unless you absolutely had to," I said, "Did she threaten you or your mom or someone…?"
"She threatened Matt," Caroline cried, "She threatened my boyfriend. If I didn't report back to her about what I had found out about Elena, she was going to kill Matt."
"Shh," I said, a hand on her arm in what I hoped was a comforting gesture, "It's alright. I understand."
"You can't," Caroline shook her head, "You wouldn't do the same thing as me. You'd stand up to her."
"Believe me… I wouldn't," I told her, and then I took a deep breath before I admitted: "You know, I should want to kill Katherine, I-I do. She ruined my life and my brothers'. She tore my family apart. My mother died shortly after I was turned, she was depressed. Katherine all but killed my entire family and I won't be able to kill her when the time comes. If you're a horrible person, I'd hate to think what I am."
"But why can't you kill her?" Caroline looked at me, both concern and curiosity apparent in her tear filled blue eyes.
"Because in those first few years I was a vampire she looked after me," I told Caroline, "She became like a big sister to me, and as much as I hate her, that will always be there."
Caroline gazed at me, her eyebrows furrowed in what looked like understanding before she turned away, one more tear falling from her eye onto her lap, and then she asked, "Why are you being so nice to me? Elena said you were pretty horrible."
I couldn't help but chuckle a little at what Caroline had said, particularly the Katherine-Clone thinking I'm 'pretty horrible' before I told the blonde, "Because you remind me of myself. When I saw you the night after you were turned, at the carnival, I saw myself the night I was turned. And y'know… you're not that bad to be around."
Caroline smiled slightly at me and I returned one.
A pregnant pause followed before I moved my hand down Caroline's arm to clutch her hand comfortingly and said, "You can tell Elena, I know you can."
Caroline nodded and squeezed my hand back in response, "And when the time comes you'll be able to stand up to Katherine. You were able to admit all of that to me, it means you can face it."
"I hope you're right," I mumbled, letting go of Caroline's hand.
Just as those words left my lips, there was the sound of someone joining us in the room and we both turned to see Elena walking in, looking between us with confusion on her face, before she shook it off and said to Caroline: "You want me to take you home?"
"I can't go home," Caroline told Elena tearfully.
"Why not?" Elena asked.
Caroline glanced at me and I gave her a reassuring nod before the blonde turned back to her friend and said, "Because I'm scared."
"Why are you scared?" Elena asked, moving to sit on Caroline's other side.
As soon as Elena sat down on the couch I took that as my cue to go, leaving the two friends to talk it out. I hurried out the room and back up the stairs, heading straight for my bedroom. Once I got there I grabbed the pen off my night-stand, removed my diary from under my pillow, opened it at random and began to scribble:
Dear Diary,
I'm worried, and I don't know who else to turn to. I can't tell Damon or Stefan, they'd just worry too much, and really apart from them who else do I have to tell my problems to? I was close to fessing up to Caroline about it just there when we had our 'heart-to-heart' but I chickened out – I was scared to see her reaction, scared to think what's happening to me wouldn't be considered as normal. The only other person I really interact with – in a non-hostile way – is Tyler, and I couldn't exactly tell him about this, could I?
You see, the problem is, I keep trying to remember things that have happened over the past couple of weeks or so and I keep drawing up a blank. There are large, gaping holes in my memories and I have no idea why. It started when I tried to remember how I had ended up crying on the street the other night after the day at the swim hole, but it's just blank, like something had taken an eraser to my memories and rubbed out anything it didn't want to be there. And what's worse, I have this constant, ache in my mind, like something's pressing in on my brain – well, not my brain exactly, the pain isn't exactly physical, it's just there – if you understand me. It's hard to explain… Is this supposed to happen to vampires? Am I maybe sick? Vampires shouldn't get sick, right?
I don't know, Diary, I'm worried and I don't know what to do…
Until next time,
Amelia Salvatore
AUTHOR'S NOTE.
I'm so sorry this took so long. And sorry this sucks.
imaddictedtocarrots
Guest - In answer to your question: Amelia looks 16 because that was the age she was turned at in 1855, and Damon looks 24 because that's the age he was turned at in 1864 but they were born on the same day, hence why they look different ages but are still twins. Hope this clears things up for you.
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I hope you guys will stick with me even though I'm a terrible author. Thank you so much.