Elena

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My dream starts out the same every time. I'm sitting on a brown leather couch in God knows where, when my phone rings. It's Damon. He's speaking frantically about how he's trapped. My instinct is to grab my car keys and run out the front door. I reach out my hand and, "Ow." I feel my eyes opening. "That's strange." I think to myself. "This isn't apart of my dream." I brush my hand along the top of what seems like polished oak wood, then it hits me. "I'm awake."

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