Bad Blood

Chapter 1

:: picture of dante ::

It was a dream.

On weekends in the morning, I would always wake up to the sound of Seasons of Love and this morning when I woke up, I had heard the harmonious chanting of “five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes” resonating around the room. I highly doubted Rent would be playing in the underworld.

“Kat! It’s time for breakfast,” Dad hollered, “Your mom’s finally awake.”

“In a minute,” I shouted back before turning back to the pile of papers on my table.

I let out a groan, resisting the urge to bang my head against the table. Despite my death being a dream, my head was still throbbing for some reason. Maybe because my brain didn’t have an actual rest, or because the lovely portrait of Paul Wesley I had started drawing turned out to be part of my imagination.

And yes, I love Paul Wesley. Well, I love pretty much everything that has to do with the Vampire Diaries. Just visit my room and you’d understand what I mean. Every inch of my room was decorated by a piece of fan art - sketches, paintings, graphically made posters… it was pretty much an art museum for the Vampire Diaries. 

Heaving a sigh, I stood up slowly and trudged out of the room. The moment I stepped into the dining room, the rich scent of roasted coffee beans engulfed me, the invigorating aroma settling my mood with it’s familiarity. I took a seat next to my brother who was picking at his pancakes.

“Morning,” I grumbled just as dad placed a plate of pancakes in front of me, “Thanks dad.”

“No problem Kat,” Dad smiled, the sides of his mustache quivering, “Alistair, don’t just ignore your sister. Say good morning,” He doted.

Ali twisted his head slightly, meeting my eyes with a glazed look, “Morning sis,” He muttered under his breath before turning back to his pancakes.

His unkempt hair fell over his eyes as he peered at his breakfast, all that could be seen of him was a mop of brown. His black rimmed glasses dipped slightly and he pushed it back into place with his finger.

I rolled my eyes. My brother was such a drama queen, which was fitting, since he was a drama student. Ali was without a doubt an overdramatic attention seeker, constantly acting depressed. Sure, he wasn’t exactly treated well at school, but it was high school. He’d get over it. Besides, Dante only played harmless pranks on him.

My breathing stopped short as Dante entered my mind. I had actually agreed to kill him, which might seem cruel, but if you thought you were going to die and the only way to save your life was to kill someone, I’d say it was a completely reasonable reaction.

“You guys didn’t have to wait up for me.”

I was snapped out of my trance by my mom’s loud entrance. She stalked into the dining room, her brown hair shooting up in different directions.

“Of course we had to. Family time is precious honey,” Dad put down his steaming mug of coffee to give mom a peck on a cheek, “How’s the banking going?”

“Glamorous,” Mom replied, plopping down into the seat across from me, “Sandra was on he-”

A chair screeched from beside me, interrupting my parent’s conversation, “I’m going to my room.”

Both my parents’ brows knitted together, their wrinkles deepening.

“But Ali, I just got here,” A trace of hurt could be detected in mom’s tone.

“Science project,” My brother stated simply, shrugging as he began to make his way out of the room.

“Oh.”