Twisted Truths | D.M.

21.

"I lost you, and the world mourned with me: the birds stopped singing, the flowers in the cracks of concrete all withered away, and the sunlight couldn't reach the ground through the cloud cover all summer long."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katherine's POV 

*flashback* 

5 months ago

I locked the bathroom. Staring at my reflection in front of the mirror. Uncontrollable tears going down into the sink and getting mixed up with water.  Questioning my existence and happiness has become a routine for me now. Every day, same time, same place. I stared at myself and just, simply, cried.

I was now a vampire. Forever. And I had no idea how to feel about it.  

I died. 
Literally.

But now, there was no fear such as death anymore. 

I heard a hand playing with the knob of the bathroom, "Kat- open the door please." The soothing voice of my father was heard. 

I quickly wiped away my tears, not wanting him to see me in such a condition. I knew he'd be hurt to see me crying. 

And I would never want to hurt my dad. 

I doubtfully reached the door and opened it. My dad precisely walked in and surrounded my body with his hands. I felt better. 

I hugged him back while making his shirt wet due to my tears.

"Dad- I'm- I'm scared."

He held me tighter.

"I don't want to be a vampire." I added, "I don't want to live forever." 

My dad let go of me and kneeled down on his knees. Holding the two of my hands and staring into my eyes.

"At least now you don't have to fear death." He tried to comfort me, but it didn't work. 

"But- but what will I do when you and mum get older?" I asked. 

He stayed silent.

"What will I do when you die, dad?" 

"You will mourn me, cry a few tears, and move on with your life." 

*now*

"...We found Stefan Salvatore and Peter Moon. The Death Eaters took the Moon's life and attacked Stefan Salvatore." 

I was alive, but I wasn't breathing. I had lost my ability to breathe when I heard the death eaters literally took away my father's breath.

He was now... dead... gone. 

Draco's grip on my thigh loosened up. 

I looked around the room, deciding on which one of them killed my father. I would lock them in a room and torture them until they begged me to stop. Begged and begged. Countlessly apologized. To make their family feel the same way our family felt.