My Name Is Maria Gilbert #wattys2019

Divided

Dear Diary,
It's been two days since I spent the day with the Originals and when I woke up, I realised Kol squeezed my pressure point so hard, that it knocked me out cold. I woke up in my own bed and a note on my bed side table. It was from Elijah. Maria, today I did things I abhor to protect the one thing I value most. My family. If anyone can understand that, it's you. Your compassion is a gift, Maria. Carry it with you. As I will carry my regret. Always and forever. Elijah. Yes. I care for him but my trust is lacking, not just for him but for everyone around me. Even Ric. I've been away for the past two days, thought I'd get away from the drama and spend it with some cousins, only to come back and find Ric has an alter- ego. Also we have a way to kill the originals and that Damon's friend has come to town. Great. So, my only trustworthy friend, I have come back to death and murder. It seems as though I can't escape it. No matter what I do.

"Walking down the stairs, opening the front door, and she's gone." I stand beside Damon as he listens to Elena leaving the building. Apparently they don't trust Elena at the moment as she was with me at the time Esther wiped my memory away. She doesn't even know I'm here.

Alaric turns the saw on, lowering the blade and begins to cut the sign. The Originals missed one very small detail, the sign of Wickery Bridge, is also made of white oak. Another way to kill them and they have no idea. Alaric hands out the misshapen wood to each of us and we start to carve them into stakes.

"This needs to have a sharper point." Stefan mutters and hands the stake to Damon. Non of us have had a proper conversation since I got back. We won't even look each other in the eyes.

"I got it." Damon answers, his orbs fixated onto the stake, making sure not to look at his brother. I don't understand why they are being so formal with each other.

"We finally have our own stakes to kill an Original. I'm not gonna miss because you can't whittle." His voice is brittle and dismal, almost vindictive and agitating.

"I said I got it. Stop micromanaging." Damon spits back as he cuts into the word and I know he's imagining Stefan's face. I stab my dagger into the table, making vibrations shoot up the metal and immediately gabbing their attention.

"Stop being a pair of babies, I'm not in the mood for petty brother rivalry, so until I've left, keep your feelings about each other to yourselves." They both lure at me for a moment before gazing down at their stakes again. "Thank you." I sigh, fed up already of being back in this town. I watch as Alaric puts on his jacket, a ghost of a smirk edging his lips and I think it's due to me yelling at the boys as though I was their mother.

"Looks like Maria has got you guys under control. I'm gonna call the Sheriff." Damon and Stefan, both in sync, crank their heads up to meet Rics calm exterior. "I want to turn myself in." Palming the edge of the table, I lean in and my brows knit together automatically.

"What do you mean? You can't do that Ric, it's not safe." His evil alter ego is better with us than a bunch of human police officer's.

"Maria's right. You can't." Damon argues with me.

"I have a homicidal alter ego. Unlike some people in this room, I would like to take responsibility for the people I've killed."

"Ric. It wasn't you, it's not your fault your like this and it's not like you wanted to do it. Unlike Damon you have a soul." Instantly, my back feels heavier and I realise that Damon is fully concentrated on my figure, lulling my head in his direction I am met with the most expressive eyes, expelling the last of the night's sleepiness from our minds. They were the colour of a clear blue sky through a broken prison wall; the colour of a perfect raindrop on a blue aster; the colour of a river hurrying to join the great ocean. I've never seen his eyes so pure of emotion, they seem tortured and contused.