the beautiful grave (book II)

heritage

WARNING: This chapter contains sexual content.
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krista

Back in my room, Elliot had rematerialized. He must've thought it was funny to vanish while I was having the most frightening time of my life. He was able to wait peacefully in this room while I just witnessed (and slightly partook) in what seemed to be an ambush on the school.

     And he, the oblivious boy he was, didn't have any need to think about it.

     Sometimes I truly wished I was normal. I wouldn't have to worry about memory impairments, or boy troubles... or even the fact that the person who originally killed me knew I'd come back to life.

     Well, that's what I gathered from that attack outside, all two minutes ago, anyway.

     This just wasn't my week, I moaned inwardly, although I think I had the right to say it out loud. However, I didn't want to come off wrong, in case Damon thought I meant in his case, too.

     He and his brother both noticed my focus of attention and took it as their sign to leave. Before he was fully gone, my boyfriend gave me a slight smile.

     Elliot, having just been eating cheese-flavored chips and watching Jerry Springer, greeted me similarly. He shut off the television on my arrival.

     "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in a while. Not since that whole thing with Marisol anyway." He came to me, trying to find something he knew wasn't there.

     I shuffled uneasily.

     "I had class." I said simply, it was kinda the truth. Who was he to question that?

     He seemed to have believed it, raised a brow and then went to the mini fridge. If he was searching for some Coke then he wasn't going to find any, none of us liked it here.

     Besides, I was pretty certain most people inside this school were inhumane.

     Like Frost. When he grabbed hold of me, I thought I'd gone insane. I mean, he didn't have a heartbeat. I was sure I was hallucinating but then I waited for a longer period of time and nothing changed. He still didn't have a pulse... and I think he knew I'd acknowledged that.

     And I also comprehended that, if I asked about it, he wouldn't lie to me. Or tell me I was imagining things. He'd tell me everything I wanted to hear, whether it was a good idea or not.

     It was most probably the latter, but if it was the truth then that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

     Of all the people I wanted to see the truth from, Frost was the only one willing to provide me with it.

     Back in the woods, I wondered if he'd seen how afraid I was, if he caught onto the way I panicked when I noticed Damon attacking that revenant – one that I dusted... with my bare hands.

     I hadn't ever killed anything before. Hell, I'd never even hunted before, whereas the fight in the woods had been like a full-on massacre.

          And I hated the way I felt regarding it. I hated the way my heart beat fast and uncontrollably, the way it seemed as if I couldn't breathe, how I accepted the adrenaline running through my veins.

     I was repulsed by my own feelings.

     Because, as sickening and confusing as everything was already, I'd liked it.