Golden Eyes

T H I R T Y S E V E N

Dear journal,

Bonnie left me this weeks ago but I finally found the courage to open it. She thinks that if I get back into old habits, I'll start to feel better. Nothing else has been working, so I guess I'll try this. I haven't been in a songwriting mood. My keyboard and I have become friends again. I use it for a few hours a day. The melodies quiet the evil thoughts in my head. I'm not sure what exactly I should make this journal for. I considered using you to roll up, but I don't think Bon would like that. I guess maybe a combination of a few things. I don't know. I'm bored now.

I set the journal on my nightstand and moved the keyboard to the bed next to the laptop. My fingers were starting to cramp, but a melody in my head wouldn't go away. I pressed Record on the computer, then tapped New Notes on the keyboard. The notes I played weren't the correct pitch. I moved down.

The last few weeks have been a bit better. I've been meeting with a woman named Camille. She's been a therapist of sorts. Nik introduced her to me, and for some reason, I had a sinking suspicion she was compelled to speak with me. Once a week, she'll come over and we'll talk about whatever I want. At first, I thought it was stupid. What was the point of spilling my guts to a human? Even though I was standoffish, she kept coming back.

Paradise is a mess, and there was no other way to put it. Women are disappearing at such a rate that Julianne initially believed they were being sucked out due to the ongoing issue with the Other Side. That wasn't exactly the case.

Nature enchanters were rebelling. Paradise was no longer their home. It was a prison, or at least that's what Alessandra has been spreading. They believed the death of the Chosen One was for the good of the world and that my death would level the balance.

She's really an evil bitch. An evil bitch who was wrong about everything.

Anyway, my death spanned across the supernatural community. Bonnie kept the act up in Mystic Falls in front of Elena and the others. The coven in New Orleans, as well as Marcel and his vampires, believe I died with Angel.

Unfortunately, faking my death means hiding out from everyone. I've been stuck in the house for almost a month. At first, I was grateful for the solitude. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark hole and forget the world existed. Now I want to take a walk outside. I miss the sun on my face. I miss fresh human blood and muffins from Norva.

I do put my time to use. The solitude helped me focus on the pressing matters at hand. My daughter's killer was still breathing. Her brainwashed cattle praise her.

When I'm not with Camille or crafting a song, I'm on the nursery floor with my little journal, studying grimoires. Billie had a vast collection that was not being used. Every few days I'll astro project myself into her home to take whatever I could get my hands on.

Today's book was written by a music enchanter from the late 1990s. She specialized in soul magic. Not the creation of souls, but the manipulation and destruction.

My understanding was as such: Every object, both living and dead, has a frequency. Frequencies that create vibrations music enchanters can manipulate at will. If I can tap into Alessandra's soul frequency, I can destroy it. All I need to figure out is how to stop her energy from being absorbed back into the infinite flow. If it's still on this plane, she'll always be on this plane.

It's my job to exterminate her for good. It's what I was made for. I stayed on the floor for hours until the book had been properly annotated.

"You want to expel her soul completely?" I shrieked at the sudden voice that came from next to me. Julianne's tall figure shadowed over me as she blocked the sunlight. I gathered my book and assortment of pens without saying a word to her.