A Waking Nightmare

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When eye opened my eyes everything was bleary. It reminded me of when I was human, my father angry for sleeping in. I was stuck with exhaustion and weakness, having slept so deeply, but without true rest.
Now I lay blinking out the sleep from my eyes. It was as if I had emerged in a haze. "Who-?" I choked my mouth dry. "Where am I?" I whispered it out loud to myself, I felt dazed. On edge. My brain only let me know something was terribly wrong and I felt so terribly weary.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position. My arms felt unusually weak. I was beginning to feel like a cornered animal. The wolf inside me clawed for release at the feeling of my nerves.

I began to take in my surroundings starting with myself. I was no longer in my party clothes.

Suddenly, I felt very vulnerable knowing someone had put me into clothes. Had dressed me like a living doll. Though these clothes weren't very doll like. I wore a long brown tank top that made its way to my mid thigh. Below I wore black leggings easy to move in. I was barefoot. I could pull this off I supposed. It wasn't like me to dress all in neutral colors. My hair lay in its usual caramel gold waves over my shoulders. My only consistent shield against this world.

I sat in a rickety old metal hospital bed like those used in the 1900s. The metal was even loose in some places. I scanned the room further. Something about this was too familiar to me. There was an old mirror dusty and green with age.

The walls were molding. They were a sweet baby's yellow. Meant to invoke calmness and happiness. I definitely knew where I was.

My head tilted as I tried to bring the thoughts to the front of my mind. It was an old place for the loony. An insane asylum I had helped found near Mystic Falls. Just outside of town. I had helped set it up in the late 1800s. Yes, I remembered.

I could imagine it even now as the dust was thick around me. I remembered it at its peak. This room had been one of the head offices. I remember wearing red lipstick my face white as porcelain. My nails long and painted to match my lips. It was basically impossible for a woman to get a high ranking position back in the day unless they had what I had. This room had been my favorite. It had been mine.

I remembered my skirt around my ankles dusting my feet. My hair pulled back. I remembered when I had entered a man sitting at my desk. He wanted something. His hand tracing my jaw. Fingers petting my hand. I remember it all disguised behind formalities, sweetness. I remember holding back a sneer. Fake pouting my lips. Hiding behind hooded eyes. I leaned over the desk. He thought I was about to make his day. His smile wide on his square head. I had pulled out a straight razor and sliced open his throat. Feasting on his blood. He learned to never again try me in the only way I allowed at that time. Death. I did not allow for false sweetness in my life.

Back in the present the door squeaked open. The hinges were strong though they squeaked in resistance to movement. Their prime had long passed. I skipped out of my memories. Now was not the time. My body returned to high alert. My head snapping to attention, eyes staring at the door wide with fear.

A girl not much older than me walked in. Her shoulders were back and her jaw set in confidence. She had cool blue eyes that roamed over me and warm golden blonde hair like Rebekah's pulled back into a braid. She walked up to me, still she hadn't spoken. We were both silent regarding each other. I was sizing her up. I wasn't sure the reason for her silence.

I felt my urge for blood begin to overwhelm me in the silence. I could hear her heart beating steady within her body. I pushed them down fore who knew what she carried in her blood. I had been taken already. There was no reason to think she couldn't take me down again. I had to think through this.

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