Bonnie waited until she heard her brother get up before she got out of bed. She didn't bother changing, while her brother had school and her dad had work, Bonnie would be waiting around for a shipment of grimoires from Mystic Falls. She may no longer be a witch, but they provided comfort and security in case something happened. She could find another witch somewhere on the west coast, but the grimoires she had acquired both through the Bennett line and those she raided after the Martin's death.

"Hey." Bonnie greeted her dad in the kitchen. She brought out three bowls for cereal while her dad poured her a mug of coffee.

"Stiles, hurry up!" John called up the stairs. He shook his head. "I don't know how your brother functions."

Bonnie laughed as she passed her dad a box of cereal. "It's one of the great mysteries of the world."

Stiles bounded down the stairs. "Hey Bon, dad. Late, got to run." Bonnie laughed as she got up to put the spare bowl away, as Stiles would have no use for it.

"So, Bonnie." John broached. "Not that we're not happy for you to be here, but what do you plan on doing in your gap year?"

Bonnie sighed. She knew she'd have to come up with an excuse, but she'd been alive again for a week, she didn't have everything planned out. She shrugged. "I'm writing a bit, researching." And it was true. She was writing a quasi-memoir of her life, of the supernatural part of it anyway, to pass onto other budding witches, especially those without mentors. She was mentor-less after her grams died and she knew it wasn't a good thing. She wasn't going to publish it or anything, but hoped she'd be able to pass along basic knowledge and spells, maybe even help newly turned werewolves or vampires as well.

"Oh, what are you studying?"

Bonnie internally grimaced. What was she supposed to say? "The occult." She improvised. "Grams left me a whole bunch of stuff, so I wanted to wade through it." She shrugged. "It's pretty interesting."

John's eyebrows rose. He had recently found out about his son's after-school 'activities' with the pack and hoped that his daughter wasn't somehow involved with the supernatural. What was the likelihood? "Do you believe that stuff exists, though?" He asked carefully, looking her in the eyes.

Bonnie shrugged. She'd been a witch for years, she knows how to deal with skeptics and fanatics alike, they weren't very different. "It's interesting." She met her father's gaze. "It reflects anthropologic ideas and repetition. The occult plays a part in the beliefs of many early settlements." She hoped that would be enough to satisfy her father, because that was most defiantly not what she was studying.

"Sounds…interesting." Her father said blandly.

"It is." Bonnie smiled, amused.

Bonnie's dad left to the Sheriff's station, and Stiles was still at school, so Bonnie sat down, intending to begin her instruction manual memoir for new witches as she waited for her grimoire delivery.

"In our town, my grandmother was known as a drunk and we all assumed she hit the bottle when she told me I was psychic. We made jokes about it, but once the Salvatore brothers, a pair of vampires, returned to Mystic Falls, I rapidly began to face my heritage, my calling. Being a witch is beyond a calling…it's our nature."

She stopped and thought of her stepfather. Because of everything she was drawn into, he died and she couldn't even attend his funeral. She knew that Stiles and her dad didn't know about the Mayor's gruesome death, who would've told them? Silas had compelled the town not to care and she was all Rudy had. She closed her eyes to try to stop the images floating across her eyes. She was standing in the audience as she saw Stefan's doppelgänger walk onto the stage and reveal the supernatural and basically slit her father's throat. She had appeared next to him, and she wanted to staunch the blood but she couldn't. And then he was gone. And because she was a witch, she couldn't see him because she was stuck on the Other Side.

Bonnie became frustrated and ripped the page out of her book and wanted to burn it. It took a moment for her to remember she was no longer able to conjure fire.

"What are you doing?" She whipped around and saw a blonde girl.

"How did you get in here?" The girl shrugged and it hit her. "You're dead."

"How can you see me? No one can see me."

"I know how you feel."

"Do you?"

Bonnie ignored the snark. "How did you die?"

"I was murdered, I think."

"You're okay now." Bonnie smiled, trying to provide a small comfort. She knew what was coming, but she didn't want to be the Anchor. "You can move on."

"How?"

"When you're ready. I'll help." Bonnie smiled comfortingly.

"I was eighteen." The blonde wrapped her arms around her. "My life was just getting good."

"It does suck. You died before you lived." Bonnie sympathized.

And then the pain struck. Bonnie grasped and crumpled. She fell to the ground and held herself together. Tears came to her eyes. She felt like she was on fire. And then it stopped. The girl was so young. She didn't deserve to be dead, but she received something she would never get. She, and Caroline, and Stefan, and Elena, and Jeremy and Damon and their friends would never feel at piece. At the moment, the only person who would ever feel that would be Matt, but with their luck, he'd be killed young and turn like the rest of them. Bonnie looked at her hand and saw she still clutched the page. She grew angry and ripped it up into small pieces before walking to the kitchen and shoving it down the garbage disposal. She knew her brother was nosy enough to go in through the trash to look for her dad's case files.

She sat down again and sighed. She'd restart.

History 1: Dopplegangers

Because that was the start of it all.