She's different. Brave and fierce. She's stronger than many other vampires, werewolves and witches. Her name? Arabella Astrid Zieglar. Watch out Mystic Falls, there's a new girl in town...and she doesn't play nice.
Highest accomplishments:
Rank #6...
'So, before you go Was there something I could've said to make it all stop hurting? It kills me how your mind can make you feel so worthless'
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Chapter 24
Ziggy's POV:
I'd never anticipated that I'd die, or rather what it would feel like if I did. When I felt my whole body turn in on itself, feeling my blood clot up, stopping flowing through my veins, them greying and desiccating with death, I assumed the nothingness would have followed. However, after fading away into a dark abyss, I came around again what felt like hours later, after being stood in a white room filled with mirrors, depicting wings attached in place of my shoulder blades.
In this room, I saw my death happen over and over repeatedly, on a loop. I also saw other times that I'd died, that I wasn't aware of. The death would occur, smoke would cloud the room, and then there I'd be stood, with black fiery feathered wings in my wake.
It was a weird experience, one I gathered would last eternity now that I was no longer alive (probably punishment for all the bad I'd done), but my confusion peaked when birds chirping infiltrated my ears. I felt life start to flow throughout my body, the ability to take a fresh gulp of air, and the wiggling in the tips of my fingers when consciousness struck a pulse in me.
Peaking an eye open slowly, I winced back at the light that was seeping into the room, rubbing my face to try wake myself up. Was I in Hell? Heaven? It looked the same as Earth. Perhaps I was on the other side.
Sitting up, I surveyed my surroundings, coming across a doppelganger who was staring at me with bewilderment on her face. If she could see me, that would mean I'm not dead...
Or she was, pardon the pun, seeing dead people.
"Oh my god," she gasped. "Elijah was right. You weren't actually dead. That's- it's impossible."
Peering down at myself, I took note of the blood stain on my grey tank top. It really did happen; I was dead, then I wasn't. This goes against anything I ever knew about myself.
"Honey, I'm just as confused as you," I cleared my throat, clicking my neck. Then all the emotions hit me at once, like a tidal wave washing me off my feet, taking the breathe from me. My best friend was dead.
Katherine must have seen the devastation creep over my face, because hers shifted into puzzlement. "What's up with you?"
I gave her a blank look, refusing to answer, swallowing my sadness as much as I could. In my head, not talking about the situation made it less realistic; I could pretend it never happened. I knew, though, that sooner or later I'd need to unload my feelings or I would combust. Worse, I'd turn them off altogether, and that's never been my style. That's not efficiently dealing with your emotions, it's storing them in a box, waiting for another day to divulge in them. It only made the inevitable worse.
