Destiny: The Untold Story of Evelyn Salvatore

Chapter XI

Imogen cautiously lets me inside the house. She gives me some earl grey tea, and started to tell me about her life.

"My parents didn't even know I existed... they only paid attention to my brother," She says, sitting down with her cup of tea.

"I know," I say, and she gave me a look of confusion. "I read your journal," I say, "I found it in your house in present day," I say quietly. She looks like she was about to charge at me for a second, but then... it changed. She looks, sympathetic.

"My house... it's still there?" She asks with worry.

I smile, "Yeah, uh, yeah it is. It is very old, and looks lie it's about to fall apart, but it's still standing," I say, slightly nodding.

She looks very emotional and says,

"That makes me very happy."

"What did you say your name was again?"

"Um, it's Evelyn. Evelyn Salvatore," I say.

She widens her eyes and gives me a crazy look, "Salvatore, you say?" she asks seriously, "As in... Damon Salvatore?"

"Yeah," I say oddly, "That's my Dad."

"Wow... That's incredible," she says looking at me in amazement, "I knew him. In real 1864. We were friends. You have is eyes," she says, with a crazy smile.

"Wow, uh, thanks, um, did you know my uncle, Stefan?" I ask, sipping my tea.

"Yes," she says nodding, "Me and your dad used to be same age at same time," she says, wrapping her hands around her cup.

"Who is you mother?" she asks with curiosity.

"Oh, her name is Elena Gilbert. She was born in 1994. Actually she is, and so am I, a descendant of Katherine Pierce," I say.

"I knew Katherine," she says smiling and nodding, "We friends, too."

"Wow. Small world," I say with a smile. "Um, if you don't mind me asking... do you know any sort of way we can get out of here? You know, the prison world?"

"Are you kidding? Did you really just ask me that?" She says.

"Um -," I say.

"I have tried every single way imaginable to try and get out of here. Nothing works. I thought that because I so powerful, that my power could get me out but no. I even tried killing myself. I don't have no idea, any other way we can get out of here," she says seriously. She leans in and says, "There is no escape from here."

"There must be some way to -," I manage to say.

"Trust me," she says seriously, "There is none," she says as she sipps her tea.

"But if we siphon enough power -," I say.

"I said there is none!" she shouts, banging her teacup on the table and shattering it. I widen my eyes, and stormed out of the kitchen. I run up the stairs, and lock my self in the nearest room, which is Imogen's bedroom. It's like an exact replica of her old, torn up room, but everything is good as new.
I walk around, and then sit in her chair. I can't believe I'm trapped in an 1864 prison world, with a psychotic, seventeen year old, Irish girl. I know that she keeps telling me that there is no way to escape this place, but if both Imogen and I combine our power, we can create such a powerful force, that we can probably escape.

I pull myself together and leave her room, and go back into the kitchen.

"Are you going to shatter any more tea cups?" I ask a little rudely. She gives me a dirty look, and looks like she was stirring a stew in a pot over a fire. I'm about to snap at her, but then I remember... she's crazy. I'd rather not rattle her cage.

"What would you say if I told you that I might know a way to escape this place?" I ask.

She chuckles and says, "I'd say you've gone mad."

"Well, I'm certainly not mad. But I do know a way that we can try to escape," I say with hope.

"I'm listening," she says, her eyes fixated on the stew.

"If both of us... combine our power, into one gigantic force, we can probably get out of here," I say. She walks toward me with a crazy look on her face.

"I have tried using my power, and it no work. But if you have your power too..."she says, taking my hands and looking at them.

"We can probably create a big enough force, to escape," I say, moving my hands to my lap.

"We will begin morning. I made stew for meal tomorrow. It's late. There is extra bedroom upstairs, second door on left. You can wear one of my nightclothes," Imogen says pointing toward the stairs.

I smile and nod as I get up and go upstairs. I go to the second door on the left, and find myself in the guest bedroom. It has a queen size bed, and red drapes on the windows. A good five feet in front of the bed is a dresser, with a mirror on the wall above it. I'm about to get into the bed, when I realize I'm wearing jeans. I think I should look for some pajamas. Imogen did say I could wear one of her "nightclothes."

I walk across the hall and to the right, into Imogen's room. She isn't in there yet. I walk into her closet, and I see some long, silk nightgowns, and some cotton ones. I'm trying to look for a t-shirt or something, but I forgot. It's 1864. I take a blue cotton nightgown and try it on. It fits fine. I go back into the guest room, and close the door. I hesitate locking it, but I do. This girl is crazy, and I don't want her having a mental breakdown and stabbing me in my sleep.

I get in bed, and turn off the lamp next to me, and it's pitch black. I close my eyes, and just start to think.

I miss my parents. I miss them always being by my side, and protecting me. I miss all my friends, and my family. I miss my house. I miss my real life. I start to cry. I wish my mom and dad were here. One of them would have something wise to say to help me feel better. I can't imagine being stuck here, for over 150 years... I can see why Imogen is crazy. I take a deep breath, and try to fall asleep.
It is literally impossible to go to sleep here. I've been trying to fall asleep for over an hour, and I just can't. I tip toe to the door, and quietly open it. I walk into the hallway, and see Imogen's door closed, and it looks like her lights are off, meaning she's probably asleep. I quietly walk down the stairs, without any of them creaking. Thank God. I walk into the kitchen, and turn a lamp on.

"Trouble sleeping?" Imogen asks, startling me. She's sitting in a chair with a glass of wine.

I gasp and say, "Holy crap you scared the hell out of me," I catch my breath, and ask, "Why aren't you sleeping? And why are you... drinking?"

"It's fun," she says emotionless, sipping her wine. "And about the sleeping part, it is no possible to sleep in this prison world."

"What do you mean?" I ask, sitting down.

"It's no possible to sleep. You don't get sleepy. I have no slept in over 150 years," she says.

"Oh my G-d," I say rubbing my forehead.

"You get used to it after a while," She says, circling her finger around the rim of her glass.

"I doubt I'm going to be here for a while," I say, with a sarcastic smile.

"I feeling slightly parched, I'm getting water. You?" she says getting up.

"Uh, sure," I say.

She pours some water into two glasses and then sits back down. "Do you really think that us combining power will work?" she asks quietly, with her crazy look.

"Yeah, I have hope," I say nodding.

"I ran out of hope, after a month of being here," she says seriously.

"I'm sorry," I say sympathetically.

"Why are you sorry?" she asks.

"I'm sorry that you've been stuck here, for a very long time," I say.

She gives me her crazy look, and nods. She downs her water, and says, "I am going upstairs. I see you in morning."
"Bright and early," I reply.