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"When the world seems so cruel, and your heart makes you feel like a fool."
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SO MANY THINGS have changed since the night of the crash, things that I wish I could reverse. I want to take the pain away from James' eyes every time I looked at him. I want him to stop feeling responsible for something he had no control of. I want Elena human again for the sake of my brothers and Caroline who do nothing but blame themselves for her pain when in reality it was Rebekah's fault. And most of all I want to forget about the confession Klaus spilled on me the other day. I want to pretend it never happened, but I can't because it did.
I can't just wipe it away or forget about it no matter how badly I want to because I can't stop thinking about what it all means. Here I find myself questioning everything about myself from my values to my standards no matter how selfish it sounds. The worst part is that Elijah heard it all, and possibly Joel too. I can only hope they won't say anything until I figure out where I stand first.
Joel and I brought back the truck a few days ago, and James seemed happy to say the least. He stared at it in awe when we pulled in, but he hasn't even driven it yet. Something tells me he fears himself more than anything, and it's extremely painful for me to watch.
"You want me to go to some memorial for a bunch of council members who want us dead?" I gape dramatically while drinking from a mug of blood.
"Correction: wanted us dead," Damon says. "There was some explosion at the Young farm killing a bunch of people, some on the council. Now that Alaric's outed us out to the council, we still have to watch our backs," Damon explains.
"Still doesn't explain why I have to go," I point out.
"You're going Ms. Founding Family member," Damon growls, before speeding upstairs to get ready along with everybody else.
About an hour later we all find ourselves downstairs waiting to go, dressed in our finest funeral attire, mine being a simple black dress. I still don't see the point in going to a funeral seeing as I don't know anyone that died, yet I know Damon will never let me out of it.
"Let's go," he says, pointing to the door leading all of us to follow. I glance over at James and give him a light smile as we walk to his new truck. He smiles kindly back, but I can see it's forced. I know Joel sees it too, but neither of us say anything.
"Can you drive please, Blair?" James asks once we reach his truck.
"What? Why?" I ask.
"Please," he asks in my mind.
I jump at the sudden voice in my head, staring at James who looks at me with pleading eyes. I can see the pain radiating off him, shining off his eyes and vibrating through his voice.
I only give him a small, sad smile as he throws me the keys.
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I haven't been to a funeral since my mother died, and that was a good century and a half ago. I've always hated funerals, which was part of the reason I didn't want to go to this one. Not just because they're depressing but also because they are boring.
The church is full by the time we get there, pictures of all the deceased lined up on stage with Mayor Lockwood standing at the mic. I sit between James and Damon, with Joel on the other side of James and Elena on the other side of Damon. She's sandwiched between my brothers, her face incredibly pale and her eyes shining with tears. I give Damon a questioning look but he only shakes me off, pursing his lips in a concerning manner. I can tell Elena's having a hard time with the whole thing, but there's nothing I can do leaving me to turn my attention back to the funeral at hand.
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♤ [2] An Everlasting Nightmare
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