Forever Is Not Enough

The Return

1912 - Mystic Falls, Virginia

It was, by definition, a perfect spring day in the town of Mystic Falls. A vibrant green stretched across the miles and miles of farmland that bordered the town. The sky was infinitely blue, and children laid in their yards with their friends, pointing up the clouds trying to guess what they looked like. The town square was humming with the sound of footsteps and voices, vendors calling out to people passing by, the steady beat of doors opening and bells ringing, and carriages rumbling across the bumpy cobblestones of the street.

Everyone was so enthralled in the day, that they did not seem to notice the very odd-looking carriage that made its way slowly through the crowd. Sleek black covered almost every surface aside from the shining silver lanterns that shook on each side. Most peculiar was that it did not appear to have any windows or doors, as though it were simply a box on wheels. The driver did not appear to be worried by this, or anything at all. He sat, eyes blank and ahead of him, and one might think he had never had a thought in his life.

On the other side of town, behind miles of deserted fields whose soil had been exhausted and overused long ago, a man lay dying. He peered out of the window by his bedside, his expression blank. A tray of food sat untouched at his side, small flies circling around it. He did not move when he heard a knock come at the front door, nor did he move when he heard a series of crashes and cursing. It was silent for a moment, and then his door flew open. He began to slowly turn his head to find the source of the ruckus, but something flashed before his eyes before they could reach their destination. In the following seconds, the curtains were shut and the room was dark, but he did not bother to look at them. "I was wondering if you would ever come back," he said grimly.

There was silence for a moment, only disturbed by the sound of his raspy breathing. For a moment he was sure he smelt something burning. Chills crept down his spine as the phantom spoke, for it was a voice that he only heard in his dreams anymore. "Jeremy," she said, "look how old you've grown."

He jumped a little when he finally turned his head to greet his guest, for he did not see her at all. She stood back in the corner, as though purposefully avoiding his gaze. A long, dark traveling cloak covered her entire body, the hood hanging over her face slightly. As she moved towards him, he saw that something had been wrapped around her neck and face, just below her eyes, and she even sported a pair of dark, round spectacles. She lowered her hood carefully, revealing the scarf that she had wrapped around her head and neck which she quickly removed as well. She pealed her glasses of next. All of which ended up in a pile in the chair in the corner.

He knew she would not look as he remembered. He told himself not to picture her loose brown curls and bright, young eyes. He did not expect to see her standing there, giggling and buoyant as she ever was. He was wrong. She had tucked her curls away haphazardly at the back of her head, an escaped strand hanging in her face as always. She came to sit at his side and put a gloved hand on each side of his face and placed a small kiss on his forehead. She smiled the same smile she always had and for a moment he wondered if it had all been a dream, and Elena had simply come to wake him up. "I am afraid I knocked your door down," she said, rousing him from his thoughts. "We did not intend to arrive as early as we did, what with the sun and all." He did not reply. "Of course, I will pay to have it prepared, or perhaps Jordan will do it. He is very handy."

"Jordan?" he said finally.

"My chauffeur for the moment, he is around somewhere, I hope closing the rest of your windows."

She was so much the same and so very different. There was a sort of arrogance in the way she spoke. Invisible strings pulled at the corners of her mouth, giving her the appearance that she regularly met with her dying sibling and was very unbothered by it.