"I promised to not return here in a long time. Look how that turned out."
Jordan is sitting in front of her parents grave with her legs crossed. The air around her is misty and the coldness of the ground seeps slowly into her jeans, making goosebumps appear all over her legs.
The flowers on the grave haven't been renewed since the last time Jordan was here. Elena probably forgot. The last few weeks have been hectic and stressful for both the Gilbert sister.
Jordan studies the flowers carefully. It blows her mind that the now wilted petals were once beautiful, and bright, and colourful. Surroundings have changed the flowers and it breaks her heart, because she now realises that flowers are equal to humans in that way.
Humans start pure, full of life and innocence. As time changes, so do we. Flowers wilt because they don't get enough sunlight, water, or because of their environment. Humans wilt because most of us aren't strong enough to stand tall through everything that is thrown onto our path. Some, of course, are lucky enough to live an apple pie life, but the most of us have to fight everyday. Whether this is physical or mental doesn't matter, because words cut just like knifes do.
Jordan tries to be strong for her family and for her friends, but she isn't a machine. When she falls apart, you can't buy new parts to fix the broken pieces. She needs time and answers, but both are things that she's short on.
"Why didn't you tell us we are adopted? How big is the web of lies you two have weaved? WHO ARE MY PARENTS!"
In her rage, Jordan has moved from her sitting position to standing with her feet firmly planted into the the ground. The grass she previously sat on is squashed, but that is the least of Jordan's worries.
A storm is brewing inside of the pit of her stomach, and Jordan is afraid. Afraid of the destruction it will bring when it is finally unleashed. She feels like this is only the calm before the storm, and when the storm arrives at Mystic Falls, it will tear her apart from the inside out.
Her chest is rising and falling in a rapid tempo, and her fists are clenched tightly. "Goodbye, Mom and Dad."
Jordan turns around 180 degrees, and she marches off the graveyard with big and heavy steps.
♛
A faint light is still glowing inside when Jordan arrives home, and she smiles.
Her smile quickly drops when she can't find her keys in any of her pockets, and she silently curses herself, because she now has to ring the doorbell. Jordan was hoping to sneak inside and into her room without anybody noticing her presence.
She presses the doorbell carefully and with little force. She hopes that the screeching of the doorbell won't rip through the night this way. Obviously, it doesn't work, and Jordan grimaces.
From inside, Jordan can hear a lot of stumbling and objects falling over, and she figures she must've waken Jenna.
Jenna opens the door, but she keeps her eyes fixed on her shoes. Something must be wrong, because Jenna never acts this way. "Are you angry with me?" Jenna asks in a small voice.
"No, of course not, Jenna. Mom and Dad probably told you to keep quiet, and you just held onto that promise. I won't blame you for that. I admit that I was a little bit annoyed that you didn't tell us, but honestly, if someone is to blame, it are Mom and Dad."
A sigh of relief escapes Jenna. She doesn't think she could've handled all the three siblings despising her one way or another.
"I was worried about you, and, if you don't mind, I'd like to set the following rule: when it is a school night, I don't want any of you out past midnight," Jenna says as her motherly instincts kick in.
Jordan chuckles, "Of course Jenna, do you mind if I go to my room now? I'm a tad tired."
Jenna nods her head as she guides the blonde girl inside. Jenna's eyes trail behind Jordan as she walks up the stairs, and Jenna can't help but think that she could've been stuck doing a lot worse than taking care of three teenagers.
When Jordan enters her room, she wants nothing more than to drop on her bed and pass out, but she forces herself to brush her teeth and shower first. Her breath smells foul, and tiny leaves and branches have nestled themselves in Jordan's hair. She realises that her body is aching for soothing water and scrub.
After half an hour, Jordan steps out of the shower, and she has changed into her pyjamas in a matter of seconds. She lets her pillows and blankets consume her, and the dreams come to her faster than Usain Bolt can run.
Jordan eyes open, and it takes her a while to adjust to her surroundings. When she does, she finds herself in the heart of London. Normally, this wouldn't be strange or weird, but then again, London has never been deserted. The usual busy central of the city looks like it has been hit by an apocalypse. Doors that are shut are being secured by extra wooden barriers, and all the curtains are drawn before the windows. Everywhere you see, the electricity beams and lights are flickering like fireworks. And although the scene in front of Jordan is broken and destroyed, she can't help but be amazed by the little things that still continue to look beautiful.
"For that, I think you should be thanking, or cursing, me."
Jordan recognises the voice immediately. It is the one she heard in her previous dream. She couldn't decipher who or what was talking the last time the voice spoke to her, but now she is certain it is a woman and her gentle voice has a familiar ring to it.
"Who are you?"
The woman smiles, and the city seems to be trying its hardest to look more appealing.
"I think you know, dear."
Jordan does know, and for the second time in twenty-four hours she has find it hard to let the oxygen into her lungs.
"Mom?" Her voice cracks, but it doesn't hold any resentment.
The voice is no longer a voice alone, but a female body has appeared to match it. The resemblance between mother and daughter is striking, and now that Jordan has come face to face with her biological mother she understands why people always told her that she looked nothing like her adoptive parents.
Both women have the same intense green eyes. The colour of the forest, and the mysteriousness as dark and curious as the forests secrets. The same chestnut dipped hair—even though Jordan has dyed her hair blonde numerous times—and soft, delicate features sharpening their faces. The longer Jordan stares at her mother, the more she feels like an exact replica.
"Are you really my mother? Or are you an imagery I have created throughout my subconscious?"
"Do I look real to you?"
She does, but that doesn't answer Jordan's question.
"I know the questions are burning at the tip of your tongue, but have patience, my child, and in time all that you wish to know will reveal itself."
Jordan restrains herself from firing, but she can't help to let one escape, "Who is my father?"
Her mother smiles, and Jordan doesn't know if she's proud or disappointed. "For now, that is not important, because what is important lies much closer to yourself, and if you wish to help your friends, you have to find out your true inheritance. Your bloodline. And when you do find out the truth you will realise why I am telling you to handle your emotions with care."
Her mothers image begins to shiver, and it doesn't take very long before she has disappeared completely, and the only clue of her ever being here, is that the city looks brighter than before.
Before Jordan has time to catch her breath. Is it possible to catch your breath while dreaming? The scenery around her shifts like a whirlpool of colours.
Jordan takes a few loopy steps, before she steadies herself. She blinks repeatedly with her eyes as she looks around, and she finds herself at the place she also considers her home: the Salvatore boarding house.
In the dream, she is in her favourite place of the whole residence: the living room. It's quite big to be considered a room, but she calls it one nevertheless. The—what she learned is Damon's favourite—chair in front of the fire place is occupied by a woman.
The back of the woman is turned towards Jordan, but she recognises it immediately, "Elena!"
'Elena' turns around, but the sinister and wicked smile that graces her face implies that whoever is standing in front of Jordan, it is definitely not Elena.
"No, Jordan," the woman spits her name like a snake spits its venom, "I'm not your lovely sister, or adoptive sisters, isn't it?"
A growl forms in the back of Jordan's throat, and she feels threatened by being in that woman's presence, "Katherine," she speaks without emotion.
An almost evil glint is sparkling in Katherine's eyes, and Jordan is taken back by it. Being surround by somewhat friendly vampires all the time has mislead Jordan's image. Because when there are good vampires, evil vampires are bound to show up sooner or later. Jordan hopes the latter.
"Good to know that you at least know my name, maybe that means that you're not as useless as I thought you might be."
"You're a horrible person."
Katherine rolls her eyes, "Yes, and the sky is blue and the green is grass. What is the point that you're trying to make." She stares at her nails uninterested.
"Why are you a horrible person?"
Katherine shrugs her shoulders, and her subconscious travels to her earlier, not twisted memories, "Because you are not. I came here to deliver you a message, and I don't do that often. Something is coming, and you won't know that it has hit until it's too late, and everything you hold close has been burned to the ground."
Katherine leaps forward, her fangs and veins showing, and Jordan is paralysed in fear. Katherine uses her fear like a drug, and she sinks her teeth in Jordan's neck. Jordan lets out an ear piercing scream.
Jordan wakes up in cold sweat, and a woven necklace in the palm of her hand.
♛
The house is unusual quiet for a school morning, and Jordan figures her siblings are still sleeping. Her head is pounding with the dream she had last night. Before Jordan even noticed that the house was quiet she had been staring at the necklace for at least ten minutes. It looked like grass woven together, with little flowers every few inches, but it certainly wasn't that, because no matter how hard she pulled at it, it wouldn't break. It is either enchanted or made of some sort of super grass. The super grass seems more logical in Jordan's eyes.
After roughly ten minutes she gives up and just put it around her neck. Jordan despises jewellery, so at first she thinks it'd feel awkward and uncomfortable around her neck, but she is astonished when she realises that it doesn't even bother her in the slightest.
With her hand pressed against her forehead, Jordan walks down the stairs. She hopes that some paracetamol will ease the pounding. She walks into the kitchen and she blinks her eyes in confusion, her mind must still be playing tricks on her. Jenna—who is never in her life relaxed in the morning—is quietly humming while making herself a sandwich.
"What?" Is the only thing that comes out of Jordan's mouth.
Jenna looks up at Jordan and her face breaks into a grin, "Hey sleepyhead, you're finally awake."
Question marks circle around Jordan's head, "Finally awake?"
Jenna nods her head, "Yes, it is already three o'clock."
"What!?" Jordan repeats and she walks into the kitchen counter with a thud. "You mean to say that I slept through school! And nobody decided that waking me up might be a good idea?"
"We thought you needed your sleep. Obviously we were right."
Jordan flutters her lashes as she looks around quite disoriented. Jenna laughs, and she motions for the bewildered teenager to go upstairs.
♛
Although the lessons are already over when Jordan finishes getting ready, she decides to still go to school. She misses Caroline, and with the fifties decade dance taking place tonight she knows for sure that Caroline is still at school. She is, after all, head of the decorating committee. Jordan isn't sure if 'decorating committee' is an actual term, but she rolls with it.
With a wave of her hand she says goodbye to Jenna. She steps outside with a slight bounce; it makes her necklace move up, and down, in a steady rhythm.
Her motorcycle is still parked on their porch, and a smile graces her features. Her skin hisses when it comes in contact with the black leather of her motorcycle. She chews on her bottom lip to prevent herself from wincing.
The engine rumbles to life, and she has disappeared in a blink.
The outside of the school is decorated with banners with curly writing and Jordan is jittery with excitement. She has always loved decade dances, but now that some of her friends have actually lived through those decades, Jordan can't help but feel even more excited.
Even from a distance, she can still pick out Caroline from all those blondes. Caroline has this aura around that demands attention, so no matter where you look, when Caroline is in the room loads of the attention will swift towards her. Not that Caroline minds, of course.
"Hey Care! How is it going?"
Caroline grumbles, "Matt got annoyed with me, when all I asked about was his job."
"Come here," Jordan opens her arms, "You wanna go to your place? To get ready for the dance?" Jordan wants nothing more than for it to work between Caroline and Matt, but she also knows that Matt might still be hung up on her sister. She knows that Caroline puts all her love into her relationships, but if Matt isn't being sincere with her, it will only break her and his heart. Caroline doesn't deserve to have her heart broken.
"I'd like that," Caroline sniffles, "Where were you by the way? I didn't see you in any of our shared classes."
"At home, sleeping."
Although it is the truth, Caroline bumps her hip with Jordan's as she drawls out an unbelievable sure.
A smile graces Caroline's features, and the issues with Matt are pushed to the back of her head. Caroline is glad to have Jordan as one of her best friends, because that girl can always lift up her mood and bring a smile to her face. "Come on, I'll drive, you can leave your motorcycle here for the time being and drive it home after the dance."
The car radio is full on blasting the latest summer hits, and although most people would cringe when hearing these songs, Jordan and Caroline are totally into it. With the windows down they sing as loudly as the can, only pausing their singing when laughter replaces it. Jordan feels free. She feels like she can just let go of her worries, and pretend that nothing is endangering her and her friends. Whoever said ignorance is a bliss, Jordan agrees with them.
They pull up at Caroline's driveway. A sigh escapes Caroline's lips. Her mother isn't home, again. This is going to be the third time this week that Caroline has to make her diner herself. Jordan, who notices Caroline's change of mood, knows not to comment on it. Her mother is a touchy subject for Caroline, and she has yet decided to open up about it. Jordan knows this, so from time to time she just gives Caroline the comfort she needs in forms of hugs and ice cream.
"I have to be back home at eight, because Elena still wants to tell me something before the dance. This means that we have approximately three hours, so let's get going, because I know you need at least 2."
Caroline smiles as she follows her excited friend into her house. Jordan has always loved dress-up parties, whereas Caroline mainly likes to, well...dress up.
Before going upstairs, the girls walk into the kitchen. Just like most of Caroline's house, the kitchen is decorated in calm and collect colours. Everything is tucked neatly in the cabinets except the coffee beakers. They just bottle up until Sunday, which is the day either Caroline or her mother cleans them and puts them back in the cabinets. When Caroline and Jordan were still young, she always wondered why the coffee beakers were always lying here and there. Now that she, however, knows what kind of coffee-slurping addicts the Forbes are, she doesn't question it any more.
"I still have some left-over brownie from yesterday, and if you'd want to make coffee, we are ready for a few hours of clothes and makeup," Caroline says while balancing a silver plate—which what Jordan assumes are brownies—above her head.
Jordan salutes her best friend. When talking about her coffee, Caroline is very specific and for a stranger it might seem totally crazy, but Jordan knows the way Caroline wants her coffee like the back of her hand.
While walking up the stairs with two steaming coffees in her, Jordan continuously blows away the sizzling vapour.
Caroline—who is already at the top of the stairs—throws her best friend a look, "Hurry up!"
"He!" Jordan protests, "Next time you can carry the coffee, and I'll carry the brownies. Don't think I can't see you snooping."
Caroline laughs, "You got me, you got me. But seriously, hurry up, I have the best outfit for you."
♛
Two hours and forty-five minutes later, and the girls are finally finished. Jordan is standing in the hall and putting on her jacket, which totally doesn't fit her fifties outfit. Caroline has really outdone herself this time. Jordan's hair is curled to the back, and the loose strands are held together by a polka dot bow. Her eyeliner is winged sharply, and Caroline has used a golden and black eyeshadow to finish her eyes off. Her lips are cherry red, and her cheeks are soft tinted red as well, which is—quoting Caroline—"the perfect example of 'lady in the streets, freak in the sheets'". Furthermore, Jordan is wearing a white blouse with the upper buttons unbuttoned tucked neatly into a red and white poodle skirt. A thick black belt is used to frame Jordan's figure even more. Delicate black 3 inch heels cover Jordan's feet. Jordan feels marvellous, and she keeps gushing and thanking Caroline.
"That's what I do best, darling," Caroline says, while twirling in her outfit herself. Just like Jordan, Caroline wears a poodle skirt. Her skirt, however, is brown and designed with fall coloured flowers. Her cardigan is tinted with the same soothing flower pattern, but instead of brown the colour is yellow. Her makeup is simple and pink, and her hair is curled back fancy. Silver jewellery pierces her ear and circles her wrist, as well as silver heels.
Caroline gives Jordan a feathery kiss on her cheek before she waves her goodbye and closes the door.
Just after Jordan walks out of Caroline's street and as the clock ticks eight, her phone rings; "I think someone is in our house."