For her safety and protection from the threats of the Witches of the French of Quarter, an infant Hope Mikaelson is sent away to live with her Aunt Rebekah. Her Father, Niklaus vowed to strike down anyone who had ever threatened his daughter. He wag...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was dark and she barely knew her way around the Quarter. She was scared but felt lifeless, hollow and angry as though if anybody crossed her, she would tear them limb from limb and have no remorse towards it. She shook her head to try to make the horrible thoughts disappear. She could never imagine killing anyone and yet that's all she could think about. She knew it was the darkness inside of her making her think this way. She felt like a ticking time bomb, as though she were going to explode at any moment.
Her face was stained with tears and her hair was in mats as she traveled down the sidewalk of Bourbon street. The lights flickered, dimmed and died as she passed them. Something powerful inside of her was brewing and she needed to find something or someone to make it go away. She began to panic and run, but not having the slightest clue as to where to go or who to turn to. Rebekah was all she had, but out of anyone, she wanted to be the furthest away from her because she couldn't bare to hurt her again, even if she knew she could heal the physical damage. The mental damage, not so much. She couldn't bare to have a Mother who looks at her as a monstrous murderer.
In the midst of her panicked sprint down the street, she had completely pummeled into a woman and was halted by her startled shout.
"Whoa!" The petite blonde woman hollered in surprise.
"I'm- I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Hope apologized and tried to run away from the lady but she called after her.
"Hey, wait! Are you okay, honey?" The woman asked calmly. The relaxing sound of her voice made Hope stop in her tracks. Maybe she needed to talk to someone, but she was terrified of hurting anyone else.
"I... no... I'm don't know what to do... I don't think you can help me..." Hope broke down in front of the young blonde woman. As she got a better look at her face, the woman caught a glimpse of her eyes and they looked strikingly familiar to her.
"Come on, let's get inside, it's about to storm. Have I seen you around before? You look so familiar..." The woman asked as she led Hope inside Rousseau's. The two of them sat down and she could see Hope was shaking as she shook her head to answer her questions.
"No, I mean, I've never seen you before. I've only been here for about a week." Hope answered as she sniffled and wiped her eyes. The woman walked behind the bar and grabbed a napkin for Hope to wipe her face.
"Here. I'm Camille, by the way, you can call me Cami. I'd offer you a drink, but something tells me you're not old enough?" Cami smirked. Hope tried her best to give a smile back, but it was with very little effort. Cami sat back down in the barstool next to Hope and turned to face her.
"So are you gonna tell me what's gotten you so scared? Did you run away from home?" Cami interrogated, not in a pressing way, but more of concern being that Hope was so young. Hope cleared her throat.