Some bonds are stronger than fate...
Thea Montgomery has a weird powers, a cult of blood-purity obsessed witches gunning for her head, and a backstory that reads like a game of tragedy bingo.
Basically, she's very tired.
Moving to Mystic Falls in o...
"there is no charm equal to tenderness of heart." - Jane Austen
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It had occurred to Thea after she'd woken up, that there was another event happening in Mystic Falls today. The Founder's Party, where the founding families of the town kindly (via the incessant pestering of Carol Lockwood) donated objects that tied into the town's history or whatever. Frankly, the young girl thought the entire idea was incredibly stupid at best and elitist at worst. The whole thing was just another way for the 'founding' families to show how important they were. Historically, none of the families could be considered 'founders' of anything, the town was founded long before them. If anything, the Native Americans were probably the only ones to hold that particular right.
Regardless, as she pondered the idiotic tendencies of big-headed small towns, she realised that she had no food in either her fridge or pantry. She'd gotten so used to eating at the Grill for all hours of the day that she forgot to go grocery shopping.
Thea needed to have food in her pantry, otherwise she'd forget to eat, and it was a rather slippery slope from forgetting to pushing back to absolutely ignoring. And after Meda had died, she'd been down that particular road.
She didn't want to keep punishing herself, but somehow she couldn't seem to help it. Subconsciously, Thea fully believed she deserved to hurt, to be weak. It was after all, her fault her whole family had died. If she hadn't been weird, an abomination, then they'd all still be here, and there would have been no purity-obsessed witchy sect hellbent on killing her and cleansing the world of her presence.
The girl made her way to the Grill, intent on ordering some breakfast if she could stomach it, and more importantly, a cup of black coffee. It was times like these where she indulged in her more self-destructive habits, and so, as she stood in front of the bar/restaurant (she wasn't really sure which category the Grill fit into, it seemed to encompass everything), she lit a cigarette and inhaled.
"You know, those things will kill you." Piped up a voice from behind her. Turning around in surprise, the girl gasped out loud, "Damon! Christ, I'm gonna need to get you a bell if you keep sneaking up behind me." Flicking the ash at the end of her stick, she added, "And for your information, I'm of the opinion that life ain't worth living once you're past 50, so hopefully my lungs will keep until then."
