Lily's POV-
I was in the driveway of my house and standing in front of my car looking at it, and noticed it hadn't changed at all, except with some broken windows, 'Kids heard of this place,' I thought, 'trying to come in and get a look at everthing.'
I walked around and saw dust and images of my old life came back: The dances, my parents showing me off as if I was a doll while playing the piano.
I walked into the piano room and saw the piano looked the same, didn't even have pieces missing. I walked into the study and the image of my parents laying there came back.
I walked into the kitchen and just imagined what Katherine had done to Sarah and the other maids, and the butler.
'Sarah I'm so sorry,' I thought, 'I never meant for this to happen.' I wiped my eyes and walked out and into the living room where I saw the portrait of the family hanging over the mantal, pictures of old family, the books still on their shelves, the couches clean with no rips, the curtains opened letting the light in, and everything came back.
I walked out and upstairs, where the steps were the same, long, two steps around the fountain that stands in front of the door, and below the chandlier that was still intacked.
The hallways were the same long type, I walked into my room and saw the old dresses I used to wear and my shoes still in the closet collecting dust, I looked at my desk and saw the perfume bottles, my papers all there, my mirror was dusty.
I walked out and to my parents room, the big king sized bed their seperate closets, the seperate bathrooms, and an image of them fighting when I was younger and Sarah had came and pulled me away from seeing it and took me to my bedroom and tucked me in and told me a story.
I walked out and looked down the halls and saw all the guest rooms doors and I put my hands on the railings and looked down at my house, where dust was collecting everything, but all still the same, the deaths of all the innconnet maids, the butler and Sarah, and death of two murderers: my mom and dad.
I walked down and looked at the paintings of me everywhere and they all looked the same, me not smiling and wearing the family cresecent necklace that I still wear to this day.
I looked into the eyes of my old self and saw how sad I was, how I felt as if I was being sold, and I knew they were planning on it one day selling me off to a rich family to marry their son.
I looked into all my eyes and saw that it showed I felt like I was a prisoner in my own house and I was a prisoner in my mother and fathers self-centered lives, and none of my pictures ever showed me smiling and the only one I have that was, was one Sarah had took and I still carry it around and apoligize to it, about what happened to her.
I walked out the back door and I stopped suddenly and looked at the bench and saw my mask from 1847 still laying there, and beside Stefan Salvatores, and everything came back from that night and I dropped down onto a chair.
I picked them up and looked at them, and if I could have cried it'd be like a waterfall would be set lose. I brought them inside and laid them down on a table by the door and looked at the house some more along with everything else: the paintings, the furniture, my family portraits, the mask, the floors where balls and parties and dresses swaying the grounds, had been.
I sighed and walked out and around the yard some looking at everything, "You haven't changed a bit have you house," I said to it.
I still have the deed to the house in my bags, my car and one even in my pocket. I decided I might as well clean it up a bit, because I know no one would step foot in this house except for two people who have been in it before......
