Dancing After Death: Kol Mikaelson

02: Vampire? Bon Jovi??

002: VAMPIRE? BON JOVI?
Returning from the dead used to be something I did well / I began asking why / I began forgetting how   -
ᴍᴀʀɢᴀʀᴇᴛ ᴀᴛᴡᴏᴏᴅ, ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴛɪᴄs

*

By the time the analogue clock hanging between the blinds behind the sink had turned to 6:00 am, I had been through five cups of caffeinated tea, all of which did little of their intended effect and instead left me nursing a minor, though sharp and rather painful, headache.

Busying myself, I grabbed Sammy's holiday homework that was sitting on the dining table and placed it in his bag, figuring I could let him sleep in a little as I prepared him breakfast and lunch. It wasn't difficult – though that morning we ran out of milk and cinnamon toast crunch and bread and peanut butter, leaving pretty much nothing in our cupboards besides a few mac n cheeses for our next few dinners. It left nothing for me.

I lost track of time that morning. The day before was the first day of school, and I had missed it so I could get on top of cleaning the house, which had fallen into disrepair with me gone, and which took entirely too long. I allowed Sammy to take the first day off so he could unpack his bag and settle back in home after his school camping trip.

It was perfect timing, really. With the attack happening on the first day of the holidays, his camp meant I could leave home to deal with the side-effects of death, without having to worry about him being looked after by Griffin.

On top of that, Liz's unannounced and early visit had left me with even less sleep than usual, and I hadn't yet gotten used to the school times. I didn't have time to adjust from the holidays, and even worse it took about ten minutes to coax Sammy to wake up, and an additional 15 for us to remember everything we needed.

(We had to go back to the house three times as Sammy had forgotten two books on two separate occasions that we had left the house, and I'd accidently left my entire bag there.)

Needless to say, despite the miracle of having gotten Sammy to Mystic Elementary School on time, the twenty-minute walk from there to Mystic Falls High led me to being around ten minutes late. If it had been the day before that this had happened, I would not have had much repercussions, as my music instructor for my elective cared less about my attendance than I did – only my progress and achievements. However, this was a Tuesday, and Tuesdays meant History first thing, and History meant Mr Tanner. The pretentious, egotistical, condescending Tanner.

Strangely, I cherished walking through the hallway that day. For some reason walking alone throughout the school just felt so ominous, like walking along a silent, empty beach before the crashing of a tsunami. Like the serene calm before the inevitable storm.

It was a moment before I would have to face the judgemental stares of classmates and the pitiful glances of friends, neither of which I was looking forward to. Passing the pale lockers, and listening to the echoes of my shoes on the lino floor lasted only for a few minutes. I found myself in front of the History classroom door with a note from the front office that I had stopped at a moment earlier.

I sighed. Then rolled my eyes. Then scoffed. Then, not even knocking, I opened the door and walked in.

Abruptly, all conversation stopped. Every head turned towards my direction, and I found myself almost grimacing, thinking I should have at least cut bangs to somewhat alleviate the look of the scars that adorned my face - though this thought only crossed my mind for a moment.

For just a second later I felt the cold shiver run down my spine as the feeling of death crawling upon my skin, and the heavying of my heart as if a cruel, suffocating weight had been placed on my chest, and I knew what it was.