If You Don't (Fyodor X OC)

Grief

" 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚢 - 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐" - 𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐

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There's a thing that nobody tells you about grieving. Well, there's a few things. One of them, is that it can hit you out of nowhere. Any day, any time, any place. You could be having the best time of your life but then the grief will strike like a snake that was hiding, waiting for the best chance to attack. The secod thing, is that the act of grieving one loss can amplify another.

When Elijah died, i thought I had grieved. I spent the following months drinking as often as possible, throwing myself at any man who would give me a lick of attention. I was trying so desperately to fill the void that he left. I didnt know how to exist in a world without him in it. Nonetheless,i thought that this was a one-time deal. I thought that after that kind of pain, I would be able to handle anything else afterwards like a war veteran. I thought, well, this was the worst pain imaginable, so it can't get any worse, right?

The third thing about grief, is that it does not give a damn about you or your progress. This i learned to be true when i woke up this morning and could not get out of bed. I couldnt move, for moving required energy that I did not have. I had been fine the last few days, so i assumed I would continue to be fine. With Eli, the pain was immediate. But with Niklaus, it was just like the sneaking snake. I foolishly believed that I was beyond this. That I wouldnt be bedlocked because of just simply having emotions. But, much to my dismay, feelings would always demand to be felt.

So now here i find myself. I have needed to use the restroom for the entire six hours that I have been awake. Its 2 pm, and I haven't even moved a single muscle. My stomach was growling and aching because it begged for nutrients, my long black hair was still stuck to my face, the sun was burning my icy blue eyes, and i wasnt doing a thing to deal with any of it. I wasnt even necessarily thinking; more so just staring into the burning rays of the daylight with the silence of a corpse.

At one point, i had wondered if i was dead. That was the only logical explanation for the absence of.. well.. everything. Perhaps this was what it felt like to lie in your coffin, six feet under. Or maybe, i had become a ghost with no understanding of what was happening. That would explain why spirits always seem to be so angry. It wasnt until i heard a knock on my door that I understood this to be a figment of my imagination, though i didnt bother answering it.

they persisted, whoever it was. They knocked a few more times, waiting patiently between each sequence of tapping their knuckles against the elegant wood. I had to commend their patience, for I had very little myself.

Eventually, my door opened. Their footsteps were light and timid, barely audible until they were at the foot of my bed. Still, i opted for burning my retinas over making any sort effort to communicate.

"Miss Ana," they had called. I wasnt even lucid enough to tell who it was. I could logically understand that they had said my name, but i did not hear it. No. I could not hear anything besides the absence of thought.

The person had walked over to the pale curtains that bordered my patio door, forcing them shut as if they had offended them just by being open. They turned to me, and yet I could not react. By this point i wanted to, if only to just scold them for taking away the one sensation I could indulge in, but my body did not oblige.