♤ [1] An Everlasting Death - The Vampire Diaries

ı 21 ı Layers of Lies

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"Stone-heart, machine gun, firing at the ones who run"

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WAKING UP THE next morning is easier then it has been previous days, my nightmare of a memory doing the walking up for me, jolting me awake.

To calm my shaking fingertips and nerves as my mind races at the thought of my father and his cruel ways, I pick out an outfit, slipping into jeans and a plaid flannel before applying make-up the way Caroline had showed me.

I walk downstairs into the suspiciously quiet house, too quiet then what is comfortable. Stefan was at Elena's lake house, but James and Damon are no where to be found.

After the heated discussion last night, I'm kind of thankful neither of them are here this morning, as I'm not ready to revisit that conversation. I can't seem to understand why James is dodging the same question twice now about why he was in Mystic Falls in 1863, and it's only making me feel crazy. It's quite clear there's something he's hiding, but for now he seems to be sticking with his story. Maybe if I ever get my memories back the pieces will all fit together.

To take advantage of being home alone, I decide to try some cooking, remembering the steps James had done when he made scrambled eggs. While sipping on a blood bag I pull out some pans and a spatula before cracking some eggs in a heated pan, watching with wide eyes as they cook in front of my eyes.

I flip the eggs around, copying James's actions. I just stare at them while steam rises, not sure how long I'm supposed to wait. In the mean time my eyes wander over to a flyer for a tea party at town hall today. I can only assume that's where Damon and James are. As I read the flyer, my blood bag goes empty, forcing me to wander to the basement to grab another.

As I walk back up the stairs, a tainted aroma strikes my nose causing me to scrunch it up in disgust. Confused, I walk into the kitchen to find the pan that once held my delicious eggs now fully engulfed in flames, the eggs no longer visible.

"Christ!" I yell while speeding over to the pan, panicking.

The smell of smoke fills the room, calling out to the tomb memories buried in my mind but I refused to let them in. If I let them in, I'm only going to prove James right in the fact that I probably do need help but am too stubborn to take it. Also, I refuse to let my brothers return home to nothing but rubble, as they would never let me live that down.

I reach across the pan to turn off the stove, not realizing my sleeve had hung above the flame in the process causing the fire to spread up my arm.

"Crap, crap, crap," I say in panic, patting down my burning sleeve with my bare hand.

I grab the pan and dump it in the sink, the cool water sending steam everywhere and turning the kitchen into some sort of sauna. It becomes so foggy that I can't even make out what's in front of me. To make matters even worse, the fire alarm goes off, causing me to jump.

I close my eyes and lean against the counter, breathing deeply as I try to calm myself. I begin to cough violently as my lungs fill with the steam and smoke and for a moment I'm paralyzed with fear. The last time I was choking on smoke I was captured by the founding families, thrown into a basement with my dear brother Damon whom I never thought I'd see again. One day I know these flames will be the death of me, but today is not that day.

I stand up suddenly and wave a cloth over the fire alarm to disperse the smoke. Seconds later it goes off and I throw everything into the sink to deal with later. Without a second thought I then speed out of the house, grabbing my keys and driving away before the memories can consume me.