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❝ secrets and mysteries make life a little more fun, don't they? ❞
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HERE IS WHAT THEY DON'T TELL YOU ABOUT BIRTHDAYS: when you wake up on your eighteenth birthday you expect to feel eighteen. But you don't. You open your eyes and everything is just like yesterday. You don't feel eighteen at all. You feel like you're still seventeen. And you are—underneath the year that makes you eighteen.
Some days you might say something stupid, and that is still the part of you that is fifteen and ignorant. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mothers lap because you're scared, and that is the part of you that is five and innocent. Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like russian dolls that fit inside one another, each year inside the next one. That is how being eighteen years old is. You don't feel eighteen not right away. It takes a few days, weeks, sometimes even months before you say eighteen when they ask you. And you don't feel smart eighteen, not until you're almost nineteen. That is the way it is.
Elena had been born on June twenty second while Enola had been born on June twenty third. They were born ten minutes apart on different days. They normally just celebrated their birthdays together. This year, however, Enola just so happened to be celebrating said birthday in Memphis with Damon and Alaric on the hunt for Stefan. She would make it home just in time for her surprise birthday party she wasn't supposed to know about. This was supposed to be her distraction so they could get it all set up. Though they hadn't done a very good job of distracting her. They had arrived at some old farm house in the middle of nowhere. Before she could even get her foot in the front door, she was being sent away like some sort of child.
Enola thought that it was stupid of Damon and Alaric to leave her unattended in a town where Stefan and Klaus had been spotted. Though that didn't stop her from wandering down the road to the abandoned town until she found herself standing in front of a lovely little church. Small town people had the most to hide. Her curiosity got the better of her. She looked from side to side as if making sure no one was looking before sneaking through the quiet halls until she reached the back of the church. Her eyes immediately landed on the row of confessionals. The lights were off in all of them which meant that they were empty. She climbed into the priest chambers of the one of the end and waited. She must have sat there for an hour before the curtains ruffled and someone slid into the empty cubicle on the other side. The only thing between them was a wicker screen that didn't reveal more than a vague outline of a form and the small door connecting the two cubicles. She immediately sank down in her seat to avoid getting caught.
