Disclaimer: Nothing's mine besides the original characters and the alternate storyline. Everything else belongs to its rightful owners.
Everyone deals with grief in their own unique way. Some people drown their feelings in alcohol, some in drugs, some people wear the "I'm fine, thank you" mask so often they eventually start fooling even themselves and some people just accept pain like their old friend.
I, personally, thought that I was used to it, considering everything that I've been through. But that didn't save me from feeling like my world had collapsed, when I found out that my parents died in a car accident. So I guess you can never get used to it. Pain has so many different faces, so many different shades, that even when you think that you finally figured it out, it proves you that you are wrong.
I remember that day very clearly, thanks to my cursed memory. You see, I remember everything. No. Scratch that. I remember everything. No, scratch that too. I never forget a bloody thing, from the very first day of my life. Sometimes it's a blessing, really, but most of the time it's a curse. Maybe it's because there are so many ugly memories that I'd rather not remember.
I remember that I had a very bad feeling for the whole week before the accident. Now, usually, when something bad is going to happen, with me or with the people that I care about, I become aware of that. I'm a Seer. Well I'm a witch actually and foresight is one of my gifts. But that's not the point. I had this really bad feeling, like a huge piece of ice was weighing in my stomach, but I couldn't put my finger on what was bothering me.
That's why when Sheriff Forbes appeared on our doorstep that night, I knew that my life would never be the same. My parents, the people that saved me, gave me their love, gave me family, were gone. The colors they painted my miserable life with, have faded. I know how that sounds, but that was literally how I felt at that moment.
I was truly broken, but I knew that I was being selfish, because there were those who had it worse than me. Elena and Jeremy. They were their biological parents after all. So I had to pull myself together for them, I was the oldest and it was my responsibility to take care of them. But it was so hard. I felt so vulnerable and useless and I hated that. But I was able to pull myself together eventually. I had to.
After the funeral Aunt Jenna moved in with us and became our official guardian. Poor Aunt Jenna, she was so young and still she had to deal with three broken teenagers, even though she was grieving as well. She lost her sister, but it seemed like for some reason everyone considered that our pain and grief, pain and grief of children that were orphaned, was somehow greater than hers. Another reminder that life is unfair.
I had to keep a close watch on Jeremy and Elena. Even though I was just a few months older than Elena I never behaved like a teenager, I was always calm, strong and responsible. I was the one that they could come to with their problems, because they knew that I would help no matter what.
We all changed. Of course we did. Sorrow and grief always leave their marks on people. Elena became very quite, she closed herself in her room either crying or pouring her feelings in her diary. One day I caught her writing that it had to be her instead of them, and I knew that she was questioning the mystery of her survival but I was just happy that my baby sister was alive. I don't even know what I would've done if I lost her too.
Jeremy was worse. He started wearing dark clothes, stopped drawing and, worst of all, one day I found him in his room high as a kite. Saying that I was angry would be an understatement. We had a serious talk, which consisted of yelling, begging and a lot of crying, but at the end, I was able to achieve my goal. He was finally able to let out all the anger and sorrow that he bottled up and we ended up falling asleep, cuddling each other like there was no tomorrow. Same with Elena. It was even easier with her actually, I think it helped that she was older and more mature than Jeremy.
My case was a little bit different. Nightmares were killing me. Nightmares which consisted of flashbacks of my past, of the worst period of my life, but with the addition of new horrors. As I've mentioned before - I was adopted. Grayson and Miranda found me one night, battered, starved and frozen on a side road. They took me to the hospital where Grayson had been working as a doctor, treated my wounds, and when they found out that I had nowhere else to go, they took me in.
They adopted me, some unknown girl with obvious physical and psychological issues, gave me home, family, love and, most importantly, they gave me my name. I was like a wild animal and yet they were so patient, so understanding and caring, they managed to turn me into a human and give me the childhood that I never had.
But despite all their efforts they couldn't make me forget. Nightmares and flashbacks were hunting me. So much so that even when the time passed and they eventually faded, they weren't completely gone. But Greyson and Miranda taught me how to deal with them.
And when their deaths triggered my nightmares again, I started desperately searching for a new way to distract myself. Me and my siblings were excused from the school for the rest of the year and there was summer ahead so I had a lot of free time. Practicing my magic and martial arts kept me busy but I couldn't practice all the time, my stamina had its limits after all.
I was distracted though, but that wasn't the distraction I was hoping for. Far from it.
A couple of weeks after my parents' death, another horrible tragedy occurred. My grandmother passed away. I wasn't as close with her as I was with my parents, even though she was my biological grandmother, but still. I was 10 years old when she appeared on our doorstep. My parents were afraid that she would take me away when they found out that she indeed was my biological grandmother, but she agreed that it would be better for me to stay with them. She only asked them to allow me spend summer breaks with her.
During our very first summer she told me how she'd found me. It turned out that she sensed me when I triggered my magic for the first time. There was this accident with a rabid dog, me and Jeremy were playing outside when this scary huge dog came out of nowhere and started barking at us. Jeremy started crying and I knew that I had to protect him. It was about to attack when, all of a sudden, it went flying into a nearby tree, like it was hit with a huge invisible hand. I didn't waste any time, grabbed Jeremy and ran away.
It turned out that witches of our bloodline had unique magic, and when I used it for the first time, my grandmother was immediately aware of my existence. She told me that I was a witch (as if I didn't know that already) and started my magical education right away.
Later she also told me that she thought that our bloodline would have ended on her, that being the reason why she was so happy when she found out that she had a granddaughter. Her only daughter, my biological mother, went missing but she knew that she was dead because she couldn't sense her magic anymore. And that's how I ended up being the last Black witch.
Her death came abruptly. She was old, of course, but she was completely healthy. She was a very powerful witch. The night of her death she came to me in my dream. She told me that she knew she was going to die, that when her husband died she was broken and depressed, but it was when she stopped feeling her daughter's magic, when she realized that she didn't want to live anymore. She lasted this long only because of me. Because she wanted to leave behind her legacy. She said that she'd taught me everything she knew. And then... she apologized, and said that one day I would understand that what she was about to do to me was for the best.
I didn't understand what she meant by that at first. Until I woke up in the overwhelming pain, screaming my lungs out and scaring everyone that was in the house. It felt like every cell of my body was in agony, like fire was running in my veins instead of blood, like I was dying over and over again, burning in the molten lava.
When I finally came to my senses, I learned that there was something terribly wrong with my magic.