Chapter Six
Elena settled into a sort of sordid routine. Obsessively tidying the house to the point that it looked unlived in, dragging blades across her arms and passing out from the affects of excessive alcohol consumption.
She was slowly but surely losing the will to live, every day killing herself with guilt and self-loathing. It was a torturous and lonely process. Sheriff Forbes had come by once to ask if she knew anything about Caroline's disappearance. Elena had closed the door in her face.
The first time she went out was nearly four weeks after the incident. She had run out of alcohol. And right now that was the sole thing keeping her from her thoughts. She had lost her self, lost herself to pain and regret. Everyday she sank deeper and deeper; booze was her vice.
She stumbled into the local liquor store, inwardly groaning at the fact that everyone in this town knew everyone.
"Elena Gilbert. You are not twenty one honey." The man at the checkout said with a raised eyebrow.
She deposited an armful of bottles onto the counter and flashed him what Caroline used to call her 'kilowatt' smile. She looked up at him through her lashes, her bottom lip trembling slightly.
"Frank, how about you cut me some slack?" She whimpered.
He visibly melted under her gaze.
"I could lose my job Elena." He complained.
She batted her eyes and silently pleaded with him.
He looked torn for a moment before quickly putting the bottles into a bag and shoving it into her hands.
"Get out of here quick. And don't tell your friends." He whispered.
She smiled gratefully and ran out of the shop. She dumped the bag in the backseat of her car and drove slowly towards home. She slowed as she passed Mystic Falls' only club. What was she doing? She asked herself as she drew to a stop.
She watched a group of scantily clad girls run inside giggling. She parked the car and got out, standing in the street debating her options. She could get back in the car and go home, get drunk and pass out. Or she could venture into the bar, get drunk and pass out.
She walked towards the entrance, swallowing her nerves. She had never been in this place before, people had always warned her to stay away. It was one of the only dodgy places in Mystic Falls, even Damon had found it too skuzzy.
She noticed the guy at the door checking IDs and glanced down at her sweatpants and long t-shirt. There was no way she could plead her way in looking like this. Before she could think about what she was doing she ducked behind a wall and pulled off her pants, she pulled out the cord string and wrapped it around her tiny waist, tying it tight. Her long thin legs were bare to her upper thighs, if anything would get her in it was that.
She approached the door and the bouncer looked her up and down. She gave him a sultry look and bit her lower lip. He gave her a quick nod and she walked passed him and into the club.
As she looked around the darkened room she wondered what the hell she was doing. This was dangerous, to be here alone. She didn't have Damon or Stefan to come rescue her anymore. She scowled at that thought and pushed them out of her head. She was here because she wanted the danger, she deserved it, she deserved the pain. She was a bad person.
She made her way over to the bar and ordered scotch straight up. She had learned the benefits of that drink from Damon.
Halfway into her second one, some sleazy looking guy came and sat far too close to her. She frowned and tried to move away. He rested his hand on her ass, flashing her a toothy smile.
"What's your name gorgeous?" He asked.
She stared at him and the sudden desire to feel something other than emptiness overwhelmed her. She felt vaguely sick at what she was about to do but pushed her thoughts away. She wanted to get lost in sensations, detach from her brain and heart for a few short minutes.
She leaned towards him.
"Here's the deal. We go to the bathroom, have hot sex with no strings attached and never see each other again. You won't ask my name or my life story and you won't mention this to any of your friends. Take it or leave it." She whispered.
He stared at her, his mouth slightly agape. He quickly composed himself and nodded, standing up and leading the way to the men's restroom.
Elena was surprised to find that her heart wasn't beating erratically, her mouth wasn't dry and her feelings were distant, subjective.
They walked into the small room and she locked the door behind her. He was instantly in front of her, roughly pressing her against the wall. She jerked his zipper down and threw his jeans to the floor. He groaned in appreciation when she yanked her t-shirt up and pulled down her panties. They didn't bother taking off their tops, he didn't kiss her and she didn't want him to.
He fucked her hard and emotionlessly and as she focused on the pleasure, for a few moments she lost sight of the pain. She suddenly had a greater understanding for Damon. The drinking and meaningless sex numbed heartbreak.
When they were done they wordlessly straightened their clothes and walked out, going their separate ways. She had never known sex to be so detached. But it had done the job; it had taken her mind of things.
By the time she got home the brief emotional solace had gone and she was left with the guilt and disgust of what she had done.
Chest heaving, she dragged a razor across her marred arms.