The Last Chicane

What A Week

Charles only had one day left before he flew back home. I was propped up on the couch, laptop in hand and typing away the report of what happened in Stefan's office the other day and listening to music in my headphones. He was playing on the playstation that I had bought him for my house for the days that he would be here by himself when I was at work.

I was too busy typing, re reading what I had wrote, and deleting sentences to notice that C had paused his game and was walking towards the door.

Glancing up and seeing that he wasn't there anymore, I took my headphones off and paused my music.

"Charles?" I asked. He had turned down the hallway leading to the door, and I heard the door open.

I didn't hear any talking at first, then goosebumps started on the back of my neck and spread down my arms and legs as a single voice trailed down the hallway and to where I was sitting on the couch.

No. There's no fucking way.

I heard the voice again. "We know Blake is here and we demand to speak with her."

Oh my God. How did they even find out where I live? I think I'm going to be sick.

I slowly sat my laptop down on the coffee table in front of me and slowly stood.

"Who are you exactly?" Charles' voice was steady, laced with confusion.

I walked towards the front door, every footstep making my breaths more shallow. The air felt like it was thinning the closer I got to them.

I can do this. I have to do this.

As I rounded the corner, both of their gazes immediately zeroed in on mine. Charles turned around to look at me as well, confusion all over his face.

"Well, are you going to invite us in or be rude and make us still stand out here?" She asked me, her hands on her hips.

"Blake, who are these people?" C asked.

My breathing hitched, it was becoming more difficult for me to take in a deep breath.

He looked at the back of Charles' head. "You mean, she hasn't told you about us?" He let out deep chuckled, one the echoed through my apartment.

I was still frozen in place, too scared to move because I thought that if I did I would pass out. Charles's gaze was still on mine, he was slowly noticing my features. My paling skin, my fast breathing, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides, my eyes wide as saucers.

He must have just realized who they were, because his eyes got as big as mine were.

"Blake, honey, aren't you going to let your parents in?" Lydia Rivers asked, only it wasn't really a question. I would call her mom, but she didn't deserve that title. Not after everything she's put me through.

"What do you want?" I tried to keep my voice steady to hide what my nerves were doing to my insides.

Henry Rivers chuckled again. "Oh come on Blake. We havent seen you in... how long has it been Lydia?" he turned to her. "2 years?"

"It's been 6." I answered for her.

Henry looked back at me, "Oh, who's counting. Time flies when you're having fun, right sweetheart?"

Lydia looked past him at me, her blue eyes that looked identical to mine staring into my soul.

"We just want to talk... Really." She told me.

Charles kept glancing back and forth between my parents and me, not sure whether to close the door on them or let them in.

Knowing that they wouldn't leave until they said whatever it was they needed to say, I looked at Charles.