Resurrected

Chapter 2

Phoebe POV-

A feeling of coldness fills me, I feel fabric on my legs, the cool touch of silver on my neck, the gold, ruby ring on my pinky. I feel it all. My mind is blank. Who am I? Where am I? My eyes open and all I can see is darkness. I blink. The smacking together of my eyelids feeling strange and other worldly to me. I see silk fabric above. Silk fabric beside me. Under me. I'm in a box with a silk lining. A coffin.

As the realization comes to me, so does the burning in my throat and in my lungs. My lungs scream and gasp for air, I try to breath in air but there is none. Not in the ground. I take quick, short and shallow breaths filling my lungs with nothing. Burning. Excruciating pain is spreading through my head and chest. My vision is dimming, the edges blackening.

I claw my hand at the fabric and pull. I tug on the fabric and try to rip it apart in my weakening grip. I tug. I pull. The fabric rips. I pull at the stuffing and beat on the cherry wood. I punch my fist out and by some miracle it goes through and into the soft, wet earth above me. Dirt crashes onto me and coats me in it. I pull the dirt into the coffin and climb through it and push my small body through the big enough hole and rip through the earth and up onto the surface. I gasp for breath, the cool air fills my lungs in large gulps soothing the searing pain. My vision is blurry but I can see other graves surrounding me, headstones with bodies underneath them, rotting away.

I turn my body and look at my headstone. It says:

PHOEBE MARIANNE GILBERT

JUNE 2ND 1992-MAY 23RD 2009

SISTER, DAUGHTER, NIECE, FRIEND

GIVE A GIRL THE RIGHT SHOES AND SHE CAN CONQUER THE WORLD. AND SHE WOULD HAVE

Phoebe Gilbert? That was my name? Is my name? It should feel familiar. I feel empty and my head throbs. My vision is blurry and distorted. I stand. The world sways around me and threatens to knock me down. I inhale and step. Exhale and step. Inhale. Step. Exhale. Step. Soon I'm walking in a straight and steady line.

The rows and rows of statues of angels and headstones thin and soon I'm in the dark, dense forest. The moonlight filters through the branches of the trees above, the branches crackle as I step on them, branches latch onto my black, thin dress and scratch my skin, leaving thin red lines and rips in my dress, the earthy smell enters my nostrils, sating my nerves and paranoia. The forest is both beautiful and haunting. The hazel leaves fall around me and flutter to the ground.

I am soon walking along a tar road. Buildings line the road on both sides, some wooden, some brick. I see a building that looks quaint and friendly, the Mystic Grill. I enter and look around, empty booths, dull lighting, bar, stage. All very dull and homey. My feet drag along the floorboards as I walk steadily up to the bar and collapse on a stool. My feet scream in relief. I bury my head in my hands, my tangled, teased, raven hair falls around my hands and covers my face and trails along my back all the way until my hips. I pull my hands away from my face and look at them, covered in dirt, scratches and bruises, my cuticles are all the way down to the quick, my hands are small and my fingers are long, pianist hands.

There's a piano on the stage, sleek and black. Compelling and enchanting. I sit on the chair in front of it, it feels natural. I run my dirty hands over the shiny, ivory keys leaving dirt tracks.

A tune fills my head and my fingers move of their own accord. The notes pass through my mind and my fingers move of their own free will, it feels familiar. The movements and tune. Like déjà vu.

Somewhere glass shatters, piercing my ears and making me hold my ears to my head with my hands, I felt like my ears were going to bleed. The sound reverberates off of the walls and bounces back and forth, echoing through the walls.

I turn around, a boy stands there looking like he had seen a ghost. Maybe that's what I was. He had golden, spiked blonde hair, grey eyes and a buff, quarterback build, he oozed kindness and well meaning. His lips were moving, making words but I couldn't hear them all I could hear was a piercing in my ears that wouldn't go away. He walked closer and with every step he took I took one backwards, putting the piano between us, we were circling it, he was trying to get to me and I was trying to get away. The door that led outside was in sight, I broke into a run. He didn't expect it so I easily got away, I ran to the park and kept running. I collapsed onto a tree root and his while the blond ran past me and kept running until he was out of sight. I breathed in and out harshly. The park was silvered and transformed by the light of the luminescent moon, which, at the full, hung like a great luminous pearl on a black canvas freckled with stars. With no kids playing or dogs catching Frisbees the park felt eerie and isolated, shadows lurked threatening to hide danger, and the wind whipped my hair in all different directions harshly.

My breaths puffed into white clouds in front of me, my body was racked with shivers and my hands were purple and shaking.

I felt something warm beside me heating the right side of my body, I flinched at the sudden contact. A large hand closed around my hand, heating it up and returning it to at least white instead of purple. I turned my head, my hair blanketing my face, the man's other hand pushed my hair away from my face and pushing it behind my ear. I saw a man with blonde hair that curled and looked so soft that I wanted to touch it, cerulean blue eyes and plump lips that looked so kissable.

I could see through my bleary vision that his lips were moving and my ears had stopped ringing that I could hear some of what he was saying.

"Are you ok, love?" his voice was soft and he sounded British. I looked at him, he seemed concerned. I could trust him. I knew I could. I shook my head. He stood and still holding my hand and pulled me up to stand on my shaky legs. He led me over to a very nice car, an SUV maybe? He picked me up into his strong arms and placed me delicately as if I was a flower onto the passenger seat.

He got into the seat beside me and started the car, the engine hummed to life and the car rumbled and the man pulled out of his parking space. He didn't say anything more the whole ride, he eventually pulled into a long driveway that stopped outside of a mansion that was beautiful and amazing. It was huge and lit like a candle, there must be more people living here because one man could not live here on his own. He must be super rich because this was amazing. He took my hand again and led me into the house through double doors that were made to fit a giant, there was a large staircase in the foyer that led to a second floor.

The man took me up the stairs and into a huge bathroom the size of the grill, the bath was basically a pool and the shower was the size of a regular bathroom, it was made for royalty. I might be overreacting and exaggerating but it was amazing and I was dragging dirt into the room. I turned and flinched when I saw myself in the mirror.

My face, black dress, hair, everywhere was covered in dirt, bruises, cuts and scrapes. Especially my knuckles that were cut up from digging my way out of the grave. My hair was a replicate of a birds nest. My black dress was an absolute mess, one long sleeve was completely torn off probably somewhere in the woods, all along the bottom it was in tatters the top had tears that stretched across my stomach and back.

"My name is Klaus, what's your name?" he asked in that silky British voice.

"Phoebe Marianne Gilbert, I think." My voice was raspy and soft but somehow he heard it. He froze as he was wetting a cloth with warm water, he turned back around to face me and there was a devious sparkle in his eyes.

"Gilbert, you say?" he smiled and it was a grin that scared me slightly, he seemed like he had something on his mind.

"That's what the headstone said." I shrugged.

"Headstone?" he seemed adorably confused, I just nodded. He took my hands and cleaned them off, we spent hours cleaning my wounds and after that I had a shower. Klaus was letting me stay in is guest room for now so I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes, drifting into a dark abyss. The drifting felt familiar. Like I was floating in water. Lots of water.