Klaus' Girl (A Vampire Diaries Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1

Damn, I am never drinking again.

Carpet imprint on your face is never a good look.

Sluggishly pushing my body up from the floor with my weak arms,still in their drunken state;I searched my surroundings to access the situation.

Trashed University common room: ripped curtains, bottles scattered haphazardly, bodies also scattered in their alcohol induced slumber, underwear?

Many, many bras over the light fittings and sofa.

Panicked, I checked that my own bra was still intact, thank jesus drunk me still had some common sense.

Looks like I just joined Party University USA.

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Annabella Sterling

An English lady like me needed to get used to her new life style.

When Mum told me to act outside my norm, I don't think this is what she had in mind.

You see, I am what you would call an over achiever, ok so some ignorant others call it boring. I guess to Americans I'm a 'dork'. Therefore my University choices included Oxford, Cambridge, Warwick, Royal Holloway; posh, upper middle class, old fashioned.

However, the educational system seemed to have other ideas when they increased the expenses. So with my single parent family I couldn't afford what my mainstream dreams had wished for and was made to, as my post-hippie mother would call it 'think outside the box'.

So, that's where I am 'thinking outside the box', in an obscure Washington University called Immortalitas Vincit, surrounded by drunken students. Totally outside of my comfort zone. Trying to let loose and be a bit 'crazy' for once.

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Stumbling out of the common room to the narrow hallway that encompassed our quality accomodation, sense my sarcasm, still feelings the after effects of last nights boose up I found my room.

12A. A number I would call home for the next four years of my life.

Stepping over the trashed couple outside my door, I entered my room that was worringly left unlocked. Maybe, drunk me didn't have so much common sense.

I had decorated yesterday, pretty much immediately after I arrived, excited to make my mark on the place.

My place was still left intact, I thanked the heavens; posters of my favourite indie banks still hung blue tacked to the wall, my classic literature pieces still neatly in a row, everything still left intact.

My surprise at my rooms kempt nature soon left as I saw the red stain on my new cream rug.

Ok, I'm going to sound neorotic but it's a massive dark red stain on my new cream rug.

Sighing in distain, I resisted stamping my foot and sat harshly on the stool in front of my vanity table.

Looking to myself in the mirror I wondered how I could ever have gotten myself into this situation.

I had worked hard so that I would have a better life for myself, better than what I had growing up. Now it all seemed to have been wasted time.

Surrounded by people who didn't seem to want to take their education seriously, and now I had been stuck here and made just like them.

Drones of the dregs of society.

Drunk, stupid and futureless.

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After my depressing series of internal depression, I took a deep breath and wiped the corners of my eyes.

I wouldn't cry, I would persevere.

Looking to myself again in my mirror I studied my face.

Wavy auburn hair , pale flawless skin and burnt copper eyes.

Nothing like my Mother, but I had inherited her strength and courage.

If my Mother was anything, she was strong, the reason I aspired for more in life.

Apparently I was pretty, back in England some people had a determined dislike for me because of how I looked. I was a bookworm and therefore  not very socially applicable, so I was then pegged as stuck up and arrogant.

Petty ignorance, what they didn't know is that I just did not care.

Looks did not matter to me, education is worth so much more than that.

Sighing in contemplative realisation that I had literally no social life, except for last night since getting this beer breath and hiccy did not appear spontaneously, I looked down to study my vanity table nonchalantly.

Until I felt a stabbing pain in my neck when bending it.

Looking back to my reflection in frustration, I spotted the hiccy I sported was infact not a hiccy at all but large puncture marks.

Great, so now I was not only part of Party University USA, but crazy masochistic drunken bondage.

My life was begining it's journey of going down hill.