It had been days after that disaster that was the founder's party. After embarrassingly throwing up for ten minutes straight, I was ordered by Misses and Mr. Lockwood to go home, as I was making the other guests feel 'uncomfortable'. I didn't complain, I was hell bent on leaving the place as soon as I stepped foot into that house. But a small part of me had hoped to stick around to find out what exactly had been going on with Caroline and those weird bruises and teeth marks on her skin.
Even though I had a pretty good idea already.
Now a few days later I find myself back in the hell that is high school, pretending to sort out my textbooks while Bonnie and Elena stand nearby chatting. I don't even use these textbooks, so why should I bother lugging them around to every class when there just going to sit on my desk unopened.
"Unbelievable," I hear Elena mutter under her breath, catching my attention. "It's as if nothing happened,"
I followed Elena's wide-eyed gaze to the other end of the hall where Caroline was walking with some fellow cheerleaders chatting away. It seemed like every day, bossy Caroline was still in town. The girl I saw in the bathroom who looked petrified and frazzled seemed to have just disappeared.
"She's in denial," Bonnie tells us, her voice full of sadness towards her friend.
I can't help the small amount of sympathy I feel towards Caroline. Even if I do dislike the girl, I wouldn't wish for her to be hurt. A small part of me wishes I hadn't gone home that evening so I could find out why Damon did it.
I knew there was something wrong about that guy, he gave me a bad feeling whenever he was around.
Now I know why.
"Hey," A quite voice appeared from beside me.
We all looked up as Stefan stood beside us, his eyes locked on Elena's as she looked back at him. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes seemed troubled as he let his eyes wander to mine for a brief second.
"You know, I have something I need to do I just realized," Bonnie quickly spoke up, escaping the conversation that was about to go down.
I rolled my eyes as the pair began to talk and resumed my position of numbly sorting through my locker. Picking up a book I found a crumpled cigarette stashed at the bottom, but all the tobacco had spilled out of the torn paper. It's not a sad loss, I never really took to smoking anyway, in fact, I have no idea why there is a cigarette in my locker in the first place.
"Stefan, where's Damon? He has some serious apologizing to do," I hear Caroline's overly chipper voice behind me.
Usually, I would gag at the sound, but when Damon's name falls from her lips, I couldn't help but listen in with interest.
"Damon's gone Caroline," Stefan tells her, his voice firm.
He's gone? What does that mean? Gone where?
"Well, when will he be back?" She questions, the little hint of desperation easy to detect in her voice.
Seriously, Caroline, he abused you. She should be happy now that he is gone, not asking for him to come back.
"He isn't coming back," He tells her.
Damon is gone.
It's hard to think that this man who stormed into my life, is just gone within the blink of an eye. I don't think I'll miss his constant teasing and hidden meanings behind his cryptic words.
Damon Salvatore is gone, and life is still going to go on as usual.
Third Person PoV
Damon presses his back up against the cold concrete wall. He coughs continuously, as his dry throat pleads for blood. He looks around the old and worn down walls of the cellar, trying to think of a way to get out.
All he can think of is blood, and he will do anything and kill anyone for it.
He can feel the sheen of sweat coating his skin. It's like having a cold fever slowly shut down your body until you become incapable of moving at all.
Coughing again, louder this time, he hears the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. He watches the small window of the cellar door to see who it is approaching him. Disappointment arises in him when he sees it's only Zac.
He doesn't know why, but a small part of him hoped it was Scar at the window instead.
"I'm full of vervain. I've been putting it in my coffee for over sixteen years. My blood will only make you worse," Zac informs Damon, to try and diminish any ideas he may have about attacking him.
"Damon?" Zac calls out when he doesn't get a response.
"So you're full of vervain, good for you," Damon said, his voice weak and scratchy. "Family only runs so deep, huh." He manages to add before a cough attacks him yet again.
"We're not family Damon, only in the most dysfunctional sense. In fact, I've avoided having a living, breathing, loving family because of you," Zac reminds him.
"I know, guess I could talk you into bringing me a rabbit or something, I'd settle for Stefan's diet at this point," Damon choked out, smiling behind his pain.
"You know I can't do that," Zac said in a monotone voice.
"You've succeeded Zac, I'm shutting down. You're like your Grandfather, he didn't like it when I came to visit either," Damon pointed out.
He knew Zac was afraid of vampires, his hidden vervain stash in the basement proved that. Even now as Damon looks into the eyes of his only living blood descendant, he feels nothing towards him. All he can think about is tricking him into letting him out so he can feed, instead of slowly rotting to death in his own basement.
"But you don't visit Damon, you appear, unaanounced. Reminding me that this isn't my house and that you're just permitting me to live here, hell that you're permitting me to live," Zac pointed out, in anger.
"Somebody had to mow the lawn," Damon weakly jokes.
"I came to say goodbye Damon," Zac tells him, before turning to walk away.
Damon watches as his only hope begins to walk away. Making a drastic choice, he uses all his strength to throw himself at the cellar door. He reaches his hand through the window wrapping it tightly around Zac's throat, holding him in a death grip.
"Unlock the door, Zac," Damon threats, putting what little strength he has into his arm.
Stefan hears the commotion and rushes downstairs to Zac's aid. He tugs on Damon's wrist while both brothers growl, animalistically at each other, threatening the other to let go. Damon gives out a groan as his strength weakens and he falls back into the gritty cell, laying there even more exhausted and in pain then he was before.
"Keep it up Damon, the more energy you waste the faster you'll go," Stefan warns him, helping Zac to his feet.
Scar Pov
Running the sponge over the car hood again, I try not to laugh as I look across the other side to Matt who is trying to operate the water hose. If only I had joined the team at a later date I wouldn't have to be part of the car wash team. And thanks to Carolie's orders, the whole team is basically wearing next to nothing.
Looking next to me to Bonnie, I see we are wearing near enough the same thing. A brown bikini top, denim shorts, and some pale pink flip flops. I certainly feel weird with having so much skin exposed around most of my fellow classmates and people from the community who have known me since I was in diapers. It's also creepy catching someone staring at your breast like Matt is right now.
"Hey, my eyes are up here," I snap at him.
He pulls a classic Matt move when he looks away, a slight blush rushing to his cheeks whilst he tries to laugh off the embarrassment.
"I'm a guy, cut me some slack," He defends himself, I smirk and shake my head at him.
"Another car, Tiki that one's yours," Bonnie orders, one of our teammates.
"Why do I always get the wrecked ones?" She snaps, looking at the man's car in distaste.
You can see by the man's face that he defiantly heard what she said. And by the deep frown lines and death stare he is sending us, I'll guess that he's not too happy with her choice of words.
Awkward.
"And just to be clear your cars a pos, I mean we can wash it, but it will still be a pos," Tiki tells him.
My eyebrows raise in disbelief of how bitchy she is being right now to this stranger. I mean, I can be bitchy, but never to someone who has done nothing wrong to me.
"You don't have to be so rude," Bonnie snaps back at her, agitated.
"No, rude is ugly enough to road with that junker," She points out, finally making the man's patience snap as he throws the keys onto the seat and walks away.
I and Matt share a look as we see the daggers Bonnie is sending to Tiki. Suddenly the bucket in front of Tiki explodes, sending soapy water flying all over her. My mouth falls open at the image, and I can't contain the laugh that follows it. The hose starts to fly out of control, as it sprays everyone within a five-mile radius.
Tiki screams while Matt tries to get control of the hose.
"Karmas a bitch," I said while chuckling to myself.
Bonnie was silent for quite some time after that, she followed me around and continued to wash the cars in silence. I didn't talk, mainly because I didn't want to, but it seemed she was lost in her thoughts, so I left her be.
I spotted Stefan across the parking lot by himself washing down a car, so I decided to go and help him out. A friend in need and all that shit.
"Need a hand?" I offer, smirking as he turns around and immediately looks down at my body.
"Sure," He replies, handing me a soapy towel.
I walk around the opposite side of the car and begin to scrub away at the dirty glass on the windshield. I think back to last night and what Jeremey told me. Apparently, Stefan was downstairs last night cooking Elena her favorite meal as a way of apologizing for being late to meet her. I wonder why he was late? I mean Stefan seems to really like Elena and I couldn't see him standing her up, unless there's something else involved, or shall I say someone. Curious I look up, meeting Stefan's soft gaze that is already on me.
"So, Jeremy told me what you did for Elena last night," I begin. "Cooking her, her favorite meal to make up for being late...good strategy. I might have to use that next time I upset her," I joke.
"I'm lucky that it worked, I felt really bad for standing her up I didn't want too, but I had some family issues to sort out,"
"You mean Damon issues to sort out," I blurt out.
He looks up for a split second, smiling, then his head bows down as he continues scrubbing the car. I wipe at the now shinny bonnet.
"No offense, but your brother is kind of an asshole," I admit, making Stefan laugh.
"No offense taken, he is an asshole,"
"I mean what he did to Caroline was so messed up," I pointed out with a shake of my head.
"Damon is going through a lot right now, but you don't have to worry about him anymore, he's gone,"
That's the second time Stefan has said Damon's gone. I guess it's nice to have the reassurance that he is in fact not around. The man gave me the creeps.
Glancing around the parking lot, I frown seeing Bonnie standing with a broom in her grip, wearing a glossed over look.
"Excuse me for a minute," I tell Stefan, already walking over to her.
Suddenly, a trail of fire starts at Bonnies feet. I watch in horror as it engulfs a nearby car. My survival instincts kick in and I run to Bonnie, hoping to get her out of the way.
"Bonnie," I call to her. Finally reaching her I grab her shoulders and start to shake them. "Bonnie, snap out of it."
The fire stops, and Bonnie is back from her zombie-like state. Her wide eyes burn into mine, letting me see how petrified she is.
"Did I do that?" She asks me, her voice wavering.
"I don't know. I think so," I answer her, confused.
I didn't see her do anything, nor did I see anyone else do anything. All she did was stand there, and suddenly there was a fire.
"Don't tell anyone, please," She tells me, dropping the broom she walks away.
"Bonnie!" I call out to her but she is gone.
I haven't been drinking this morning, so I know what just happened wasn't a figment of my imagination. But if it wasn't, then what the hell did just happen?
I laid in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, thinking about today. Bonnie looked really scared almost frightened of herself. How did that fire start? It started at Bonnie feet, I saw it. But how did she start a fire without even moving?
"Scar! Scar come down here quickly!" Elena shouted, before slamming the front door shut.
What have I done wrong now?!
"I swear whatever it is I didn't do it," I defend, trudging into the living room.
I frown as I watch my sister fighting with the VHS player. Her once neat, straightened hair is in a disarray. When she stands up I can see she is flushed and out of breath.
"Have you been running?" I joke, watching her scramble for the remote.
She hits a button making the tv come to life, with a black and white tv report. I take a step forward looking closer at the screen. The Salvatore boarding house comes into view and a bodybag is being wheeled out.
"What am I looking at here?" I ask her, frowning in confusion.
"Look," She replies pausing the video.
"Is that Stefan?" I ask, mirroring her wide-eyed expression.
"It has to be, who else could it be," She points out.
Staring at the grainy image of Stefan, goose bumps rise along my arms. He looks exactly the same, so does the boarding house. But judging from the video quality, I can tell this didn't happen recently.
"When did this happen?" I question.
"1953."
