Rough Courage |The Vampire Diaries|

The New Century

1864

I awoke to the sound of banging on my door as the moonlight shined down into my room. I quickly opened the door in my nightgown as I stood face to face with none other than the Katherine Pierce.

"How can I help you Ms. Pierce?" I was trying to be as polite as possible but it was quite difficult. Ever since Katherine came to live with us, my brothers are not what they used to be. Instead of their usual bonding relationship, they were hostile towards each other - wanting the girl for themselves - that girl being Katherine.

"No need for the formality, El. I'm quite aware how fond you are of me." She answered, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"What do you want Katherine?" Instead of responding, she proceeded to raise her arm to her mouth - her face turning to what resembled a demon. Before I could cry for help, she was quickly behind me in a second, forcing her wound onto my mouth. I protested, trying to break the hold she had on me but she was inhumanly strong. I could taste her blood as it gushed out of her bite as she forced me to drink it. 

"You'll thank me later." She whispered in my ear before snapping neck as I saw darkness. 

2009

I was in Mystic Falls - my original hometown. There I stood, a 165 year old vampire who didn't look a day over 20. I took in a deep breathe as I smelt the mist on the street the rain had left behind. But I wasn't here to reminisce - I was here to found out who she was. I had already looked into her records, learning her name was Elena Gilbert. She was a dead ringer for Katherine although her mannerisms and styles were far more different. This Elena girl seemed to be a very positive and simple teenager, from what I observed, while Katherine was more of vain and extravagant girl. 

But that wasn't the only reason why I was back in Mystic Falls. I was also positively sure Stefan and/or Damon would be here as well for the same reason. I had physically interacted with my brothers after that night Katherine killed me and well, let's just say it wasn't the best. I walked towards the driveway where Zach lived, the heels of my boots clicking against the freshly paved cement. I rang the door bell and waited patiently, a fake smile placed on my face. I don't presume he knew me but I guess I would have to wait and find out. The door opened and a man around the age of thirty-five stood there. "Can I help you?" He asked. I guess I was correct - he doesn't have a knowledge of me. 

"Hey, um, I'm a friend of Stefan's and I was wondering if he was here. He promised he would help me with my Math homework. I kinda suck at it." I playfully laughed, trying to sound as much as a teenager as I could. 

"Uh," He murmured, looking behind him towards the stairs before turning towards me. "He's not here right now but I'll tell him you stopped by." He tried to close the door but I stuck my foot in the crack as I forced the door open.

"No need. I'll make sure I give him the message personally." I smirked before grabbing Zach by the collar of his shirt and throwing him against an old, wooden cabinet in the corner - cracking one of the doors as he landed on the ground unconscious.

I walked over to him and swiftly put him over my back. I walked up the stairs and went through every room until I found the bathroom. I dropped him into the bathtub and locked the door before walking into Stefan's room. I chuckled darkly, spotting Stefan's 'journal's'. I grabbed the first one at the top, skipping to the last entry.

"I lost control today. Everything I've kept buried inside came rushing to the surface. I'm simply not able to resist her. I had a plan. I wanted to change who I was, create a new life as someone new, someone without a past. Someone alive... 

They follow you. You can't escape them - as much as you want to.

I scoffed, throwing the the pale green book across his desk. I stood there for a moment, inspecting his room. There wasn't much in here that was interesting except for a medium sized bookshelf which contained about maybe thirty books. I walked up to it and slid my fingers across the beat up spines of all the books. The first shelf was organized by name, the second by year, and the third by author. I smiled; although my emotions were turned off, my love for book reading would always surface. I grabbed a random book and began fingering the coffee stained pages and smelling the faint smell of dust and mothballs.