Salvation

Chapter 55

Stefan

Three days passed and no one uttered a word. She had been placed in her casket, yet no one dared move her. Not everyone cried. We had our own way of handling the grief, processing it. Kol disappeared. He was roaming around the streets of London unleashing his violence, his anger on anyone that crossed his path. He lost his wife and his unborn child; I didn't blame him. We made no effort to derail him. And Damon; He barely moved. He remained rooted in his seat by the fireplace, staring blankly ahead. He spoke to no one. He drank and drank as if it was going to drown out the pain, but it didn't. He spiralled out of control, smashing whatever he had in his hands. Once again, I made no action to stop him.

I wanted to spiral. I wanted to die. I wrote in my journal, but it did nothing. When overcome by frustration I threw the book across the room and cried out. She wasn't here and I needed her. I didn't want to lose control but there was nothing I could do. Yet I found myself losing control in a slow and painful manner. We needed her. I needed her. I hated everything because it was a reminder of her. Sitting at my desk with my hands covering my face, footsteps approached but I made no movement.

"Stefan?" Caroline with her voice soft and soothing. Oddly, it didn't have that effect now. When all I wanted was my sister back. Removing my hands and placing them flat on the desk, I met her gaze. I felt the flicker of the switch, I wanted to do it. I was so close to it. She jumped and held me tight. "Don't do it Stefan. Don't." Running her hand down my back, comforting me and reminding me she was here, and she needed me too. Please Sophia, please come back. I need you. I cried.

Rebekah shut herself away in her room, surrounded by everything that belonged to her. She would stare at the items and looked back on the fond memories. They were best friends. Just like everyone else, in her own way she shut the world out. Klaus kept himself in his room, painting away furiously. Elijah and Marcel couldn't bear to be in the presence of her casket, where she lay indefinitely. They spent their time hunting down escaped witches that rose from the dead. But to what end? She was dead. What did it matter? What did it change? Nothing. No amount of death would bring her back. No act of vengeance would bring her back.

The smashing of glass continued. It no longer made me flinch. It was Damon's way of releasing his anger and he was feeling heaps of it. "I killed her." Is what he kept muttering to himself over and over again. Every time I squeezed my eyes shut, I would hope so hard that when I reopened them, she would be standing before us, smiling. But she never came. Yet without fail, I did it anyways. I stared at the empty space before me. I begged her to come back and hold me, but she didn't. I was slowly drifting away. All this talk of Salvation but in the end there was none. Life went on for others, but we remained stuck. Closing my eyes, I recalled our last memory. It was fresh as though it only just happened.

I watched her ghost run around the house, jumping on all the furniture as she giggled and poked fun at me. She was exactly like Damon, taking my journal and reading out entries for everyone to hear. I nipped upstairs in search of her journal and thinking she would follow, I frowned. She knew I wouldn't find her journal and when I returned, she laughed in my face. "Here," she handed the journal back. "I'm sorry." Pecking my cheek, she ran off to bother Damon. I blinked and was transported back to reality.

Elijah returned with something in his hand. Narrowing my eyes, it was a dusty pink journal he clutched. Her journal. Walking up to me, he pushed it into my hands. In his other hands he held a stack of letters in cream envelopes. It was then I noticed, a similar envelope was sticking out of her journal. "I thought you'd want this." He motioned toward the journal.

It was unbearable standing there, so I went to where she lay in her coffin. Freya and Bonnie worked relentlessly to find a way to bring her back. They examined every magical book there was, flicking through page after page. She said so herself, Sophia was cursed and there's no way to bring her back and it was our fault. We let it happen. We didn't deserve her. She was too good for us. "I don't know why you bother!" I spat out. "She's not coming back. We did everything, why torture us further with keeping her here! Haven't we suffered enough?!" I glanced down at the journal in my hand. What had she written? What use would it make?