MEMORIES ▷ KOL MIKAELSON [1] [COMPLETED]

𝟏𝟏. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

(CHAPTER ELEVEN :
GRAVE REVELATIONS)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

IN TRUTH, GETTING TO my destination took an unnecessarily long time. New Orleans — known to some as The Big Easy — was approximately two thousand five hundred and nine miles away from Portland. If I was unable to compel transport and bend the rules of the law, I would have lost my intolerant mind with the time it should have taken. Although I didn't like using compulsion often, I held no shame in it. I mean, I wasn't hurting anybody by taking a few short cuts on the road and borrowing a modern, high-speed car.

Even with my arrival, I couldn't escape what I was running from with my phone vibrating madly every hour or two. Filled with texts informing me Bonnie Bennett was doing a location spell and Damon Salvatore would have my head on a stick if I didn't come home soon, I couldn't find a moment of peace. And that was all I truly wanted. Perhaps my friends thought Mystic Falls had my heart, but I would never be wholly there until I had closure. If the trip went smoothly, I would return soon once I had the comfort of knowing both my parents had been laid to rest and I was fully healed. Over time, I had been broken and beaten down by my parents and to move on sounded rejuvenating, in the least. Like a Phoenix, it was time I was reborn.

In reflection, there was a fatal flaw in my picture perfect plan — I didn't know where my Mother was buried. It was big here too, I'd already passed two cemeteries as I wandered aimlessly, resembling a lost tourist more than anything else. "Excuse me," I would call every minute or so, tapping the shoulder of a stranger nearby. "Ethel Hatton. I'm looking for Ethel Hatton." I attempted, rehearsed as the last six times I spoke. Futile, it was futile because it seems I didn't do well with the hustle and bustle of a big city with my humanity on. Back in New York, I was extortionate and brave without a second though. Here, I blended in.

Enraged, I forcefully clutched the shoulder of a brunette that was passing by. She was young, but radiated a strong aura, enough to make me think she might have been of help. "Let go of me, vampire." The girl hissed, taking me by surprise because I concealed my fangs fairly well so far.

"Supernatural?" I arched a brow as I figured that could be the only way she would know what I am. "Look, I just have a question because everybody in this damned city is self-absorbed." I explained, knowing too well that somebody must have knew where Mother was buried. The Faircloughs became notorious in New Orleans when they moved here, following the death of Thomas. Only his brother stayed, thus why Arthur remained in Portland. With that, I assumed somebody must have knew about their family plot.

For a petite girl, she held an inexplicable fire, her slit eyes daring me to proceed. "Say, I answer your question, what do I get in return?" She prompted. Smart, for sure.