Fix You

Chapter 4

"Where have you been?" Damon starts the second I walk through the door and I side eye him.
"Cheer practice." I respond to him in a dead pan tone.
"That ended a while ago." He points out and I shrug.
"I had to get fitted for a uniform and then went for a walk." I answer and then stare at him.
"Why the intense concern? Do I have a curfew?" I ask watching his face contort in anger.
"You might have to if you keep disappearing." He says and I stare at him.
"Disappearing? I went on a walk! You don't need to father me Damon. I'm fine and I will be fine. You don't need to protect me. I'm not that weak little girl anymore." I tell him, anger seeping into my tone.
"I'm your brother, I'm always going to protect you." He says and I bite my tongue to keep the anger at bay.
"Before or after you're done fighting Stefan over Katherine Pierce's twin?" I snap, failing at keeping the anger away and stomp upstairs. I slam my door so hard that the pictures on the wall rattle. I head for the window in my room and throw it open. Night has settled over this town but I don't care. I heave myself out of the window and drop to the ground nearly soundless. He thinks he can control my comings and goings, he's wrong.

I don't even go anywhere dangerous either. I end up on a bench in the center of town, absolutely fuming. I tilt my head back to look up at the stars, seriously considering not going "home" for a few days. I shouldn't have agreed to stay in that house to begin with. Just thinking about it makes my skin want to peel away from my bones. There's not a wall in that place I hadn't been shoved or slammed into. The cellar door still makes my heart beat in my throat.

All the experiences in the world can't take away that fear. Can't paint over all the cracks in me so I can pretend I'm shiny and whole. I've yet to find a language with the right words to describe this burning anger that I feel every day. This irrational anger that makes me want to smash everything in sight. To hurt the people I care about so they can feel a fraction of the pain that eats away at me every day.

I think that's part of the reason why Niklaus and I became such fast friends. He didn't take my phases of anger personally. Sometimes he outright encouraged me to be angry.  It was refreshing to have someone around who almost understood. Who didn't judge me when the only thing I wanted to do was take a bat to anything breakable.

I sigh, sending a cloud of steam into the air and stuff my hands into my pockets. It wouldn't be hard for me to just disappear again. Not many people would miss me anyways. It was a mistake coming here. Seeing that house look updated, like nothing happened just makes me angrier. Knowing that there's a room up there that sits untouched and unknown nearly makes my hands shake with rage.

I dart back in the front door, letting it slam closed. The warmth of whatever alcohol I conned the man at the liquor store washing over me. I walk up the stairs not caring if I disturb my brothers. I push open the attic door, the dusty smell all to familiar to me. I creep up the stairs, the first tendrils of fear creeping in but I take another swig from the bottle, letting the burn drown out the fear.

I make it to the top of the stairs and walk across the attic and run my hands along the east wall until I feel the hard edge of a door. It's a lot smaller than I remember as I pull it open. I have to get down on all fours and crawl into the room.

It's exactly as I remember it. I drunkenly run my hand over the crude drawings on the walls, choking back the tears that threaten to rise up. In an instant I'm the preteen girl who was thrown up here after her big brother joined the army. The girl who was pounding on the door begging her daddy to let her out. That she'll be good.

I fall to my knees, plumes of years worth of dust kicking up around me.
"Serena?" Damon's voice says from somewhere in the attic. I listen as I hear his footsteps approach the door. He struggles to get through it and then curses under his breath as he looks around the room.
"What the hell is this?" He asks, mostly to himself.
"The finishing school our wonderful father sent me to." I respond, words slurring together.
"What?" He asks and then picks up the discarded bottle and reads it over.
"Ever clear? Seriously Serena?" He asks and I shrug.
"It got the job done." I tell him as I try to get to my feet. I stumble a little as I stand and it finally sinks in how small this room was.
"He really locked you up here." Damon says more as a statement to himself than a question.
"Our father was a sick man. It was easier to pretend he sent me away then explain why I was turning up to church with bruises on my face." I say and then turn and kick the wall hard enough to put a hole in it. Damon puts his hands on my shoulder and guides me towards the little door. I crawl out and then use the wall to pull myself into a standing position as he crawls out himself.

He looks at me sadly and almost like he's ashamed of himself.
"If I had known for a second he did this." Damon starts and I raise my hands.
"I am very drunk and very angry. Please do not give me any reason to want to burn this house down more than I already do." I tell him and then look at him, alcohol loosening my tongue.
"Did you know he only let me out after he got a letter from one of his friends' son asking for his permission to court me?" I say and laugh earnestly.
"I only had value to that man when he was going to be able to sell me to the highest bidder. Thankfully I 'died' long before he could pick my husband." I say and shake my head, already very dizzy.
"I should go to bed. Don't tell Stefan about the room since I was put into it when he was still at home." I say and barely make it down the stairs and into my bed before the alcohol overtakes me and puts me to sleep.