Paper Cuts TVD

000. Population Deline

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Mystic Falls, Virginia | 2009, September

    OH, MR. SANDMAN. . .

    (Yes?)

Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes slammed the cruiser shut hard, jaw fixing, blue eyes tight beneath blonde, pencil-thin eyebrows. The silence rang like a fucking gong, loud and mighty, it was 4:18AM on a school night according to the clock on the dash; not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. Sheriff Forbes made a brief phone call before making her way around the cruiser with a very determined, mother-like, stride. Fee. Fy. Foe. And Fum.

In that moment, a terrible chill grew teeth and a tail.

    Stupid.

    Worthless.

    Trash.

Something like shame crept up my throat, so thick I couldn't breathe. Tears hot and thick beginning to completely blind my vision. I gasped, incapable of stopping myself, and tilted my head back against the leather seat. Willing myself to regain some composure. But the words kept spinning 'round and 'round like a ballerina in a music box.

I blinked rapidly, shaking off the feeling that snaked tightly around my lungs. I knew what it was, the name and the cause, but I refused to face it and the memories that came with it. Not today, I thought, at least, not now.

Steel cuffs dug into my wrist until it broke skin. It stung. Pain bloomed and throbbed and flared white hot. But it was a welcome distraction. As I worked to ease the feeling, Sheriff Forbes climbed in the front seat. Ding. Ding. Ding. The endless chime got under my skin more than the handcuffs. She buckled her seatbelt and the song abruptly cut off. She let out a hearty sigh and stared straight ahead. Blinking. I wondered what she saw. What could possibly be so interesting. I searched out the window for several seconds before realizing she wasn't staring at anything. Sheriff Forbes was disappointed in me. Yes. It was clear now. So much that I genuinely didn't know what to make of it.

    "So!" I chirped brightly. Smiling a big big smile.

    Briefly, she met my gaze in the rear view mirror.

Propping one leg over the other, bare feet on cold rubber carpet. The rhinestone on my big toe caught the light from a lamppost outside as I shook it out of boredom.

"No officer Bradley tonight, eh?"

Silence.

I went on. "What's that about? Did he get fired? Did he leave town? I hear everyone's talking about moving somewhere with less . . ." I staggered for a word, "um. Nature problems? I don't know but.you know what I mean. But anyways what a waste. I wouldn't mind these cuffs so much if they were his, you know what I mean? He seems like the kinky type.

   Level with me Sheriff, we're both adults here, you tap that?"

    I waited for her to slap me, to start yelling.

    But it never came.

    "Be quiet, Melanie." She said finally. The silence swiftly resuming.

    I rolled my eyes. "Where are we at with that by the way?"

Mystic Falls had been plagued with an alarming rise of animal attacks since early spring. Hikers turning up dead, neighbors and friends suddenly declared missing. I didn't watch the news, not with the sound on anyway, local broadcaster Logan Fell was easy enough on the eyes but his vernacular was too grandiose for my taste. I used to have fantasies about him every night before I found out he spoke like a grandpa. Suffice to say that what we shared was O-V-E-R over.

Sheriff Forbes ground her teeth together. A nasty habit I knew for a fact her daughter Caroline had too. "It's under control."

    I hummed singingly. Sure it was.

Reclining back, I watched the streetlights pass by through the back window. I played pretend that they were shooting stars and space ships, that I was a runaway bride escaping my arranged marriage and trading it all for a pirate's life at sea. Raiding villages and hunting for gold and drinking rum beneath an open starry sky. It almost felt real. The sea air against my skin, the dangerous rock of a ship at sea, treasure like diamonds and rubies and gold doubloons paid in blood, and the freedom. Sweet, giddy freedom. I could nearly taste it.

    Fifteen minutes later and I was in the slammer.

    I was allowed one phone call and a scratchy grey blanket.

Dixie was seldom ever home, or at least not on the days that ended with Y anyways, and besides, only an idiot would call her in case of an emergency. She didn't have bail money or even a car. I knew the words that'd come out her mouth without needing to call. Fucking dynamite, Melanie. Jesus Christ. Fucking perfect. Technically, I was arrested for possession. Not like for crystal meth or anything, just a couple illegally purchased sleeping pills to last the next few weeks. It wasn't a big deal. Everyone does it.

Despite the early hour, the phone only rang once before his secretary answered. This wasn't the first time I'd screwed up. And if I was truly was my mother's daughter, than far be it the last.

Self loathing choked my words. The ugly truth burning my sight. This is where the story starts, the first knot in such a tangled tale. In a cold, empty hallway at the police station, bare footed in a Juicy pink mini skirt and a black rhinestoned halter top, mascara caked lashes and a sob stuck in the back of my throat, threatening to tear me all apart. His secretary finally got him through.

    "Melanie?" Mayor Lockwood said.

    Stupid.

    Worthless.

    Trash.

That feeling came back again. And I was running out of ways to hide from it. I bite hard on my bottom lip as the tears ran down my cheeks. "I didn't have anyone else to call."

Oh, Mr. Sandman... (Yes?)

I looked to my right, out one of the station windows. I saw dawn breaking, a twilight blue against the dancing shadows of willow trees. I saw a crow with pale blue eyes, I saw myself in their reflection.

🦋

A/N: just a prologue but how do we feel ? Is she slay? Is she gárbage?