PORTRAIT OF PENITENCE ⸻ the vampire diaries.

CHAPTER I - that summer night sealed my fate.

portrait of penitence.
chapter I , that summer night sealed my fate.
( the pilot. )

.     .     .

( HOLLY ! )

HORRIBLY PATHETIC, THE SIGHT OF THEM.

Uneventful and mundane, their lives had become. The only scintillating part of their day being the snappy, crude one-liners they would hurl at each other to pass the time in their dreadfully drab, little town. It was a small town in Nowhere Virginia; Mystic Falls.

Holliday Hepburn, the one with the stringy brown-dyed hair, wrinkles around her dull eyes, and worn, guitar-string scarred hands, flipped through pages of a leather-bound book, but didn't read a word; she stopped at a page for a minute or more before moving onto the next, fooling any passerby to think she was entranced by the content of her intimidating, black book.

To only the naked eye, however. Through Dorothea's sparkly, keen pair, you would be able to decipher that she wasn't skimming through the story, but shielding herself with the cream pages from anyone who would dare approach. After all, it was fool-proof; who was going to mess with a moody, ex-drug addict's quiet reading time?

"You do this every day, and people still don't figure it out," Dorothea drawled, sticking her gaze onto the French words printed onto the book that neither knew how to read. "Are you like secretly Invisible Man?"

"I'd say it's more of no one wanting to talk to the bitchy, old addict who recently got out of rehab after missing her sister and brother-in-law's joint funeral."

"ex-addict," Dorothea frowned, the upset expression unbefitting her baby doll-like features.

"You don't know that," Holly's eyes averted from the foreign words to the sun-kissed girl, "I could always relapse; still have my old dealer's number."

"But you won't."

Holly's eyebrow rose in a blend of amusement and curiosity. "'Cause you're not me," Dorothea said, "And your old dealer is also my dealer who won't ever sell you anything ever again."

"You've got way too much trust in Matt," Holly smiled, her eyes averting back to the foreign words she so desperately wanted to understand and read, "All he and his mini grinch care about are merchandise sales and money."

"Nah, me and him have an understanding!" Dorothea spoke, flicking strands from her back behind her shoulder, "He and his little gremlin won't be giving you shit. So, don't even try it, sugarcake."

"Call me that again, and you'll be eleven and a quarter feet shorter 'cause you'll be six feet under."

"a, that makes no sense, and b, how do you know how tall I am?"

"a, you're a teenage, druggie degenerate who pays zero attention in school. Nothing makes sense to you. And b, how short you are. In no land or timeline will you be considered tall."

"What's a degenerate?"

Holly blinked. "You're not serious, right?"

"Whatever, loser," she groaned, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her ragged pink backpack by its flimsy handles which looked as though they'd tear off at any given moment.

Holly gazed at her owlishly, reading her movements and predicting each that came after with perfect accuracy; this had become quite the routine for both of them. "I've gotta get home," Dorothea sighed, "I'm makin' dinner tonight."

Holly nodded dismissively and smiled, "What's on the menu?"

"Kimchi fried rice with a side of rat poison."

She watched Dorothea's hands find their way to her wig's hair strands as she reached for her ears to plug in her earpods. A habit she'd picked up from Holly –– never being able to walk the streets without music resounding in her eardrums.

Holly's eyes averted back to the ugly book as she observed the indentations and imperfections of its aged, cream pages. She could have just left then; home wasn't close, but she would still be back with time to spare for dinner. But it was as though her feet were rooted to the ground and wisteria had grown around her faux leather-clad feet; she did not wish to leave just yet. She felt like a teenager, avoiding home like the plague and staying at the grill for hours on end until going home was finally unavoidable.

Her hand rose up to her right ear and tugged the loose hairs back. The place was scarce of light; Holly thanked god she wasn't actually reading the book. Even death row must have lighting than this. She stared at the page blankly, no thoughts permeating into her mind for a solid minute before her silence was broken.

Her eyes were slower than her ears as she heard the screeching of the chair opposite hers against the ground and then the sound of a figure clad in black –– much like Dorothea who had left for home a minute or so ago –– plopping onto the chair.

A smile almost tugged upon her lips, thinking it was her young friend back to give her friendless self company, but she was mistaken –– sorely mistaken. Dorothea and the figure before her couldn't be more different than the moon and the sun.

"Can I help you?" her eyebrows arching up to the sky, she asked, apprehensive of the stranger by nature. She observed his appearance; Dark hair, light eyes, and such a pale complexion you'd think he'd never stood under the sun before. A small mole adorned the side of his jaw, which seemed painfully stretched upward because of his large smirk, resembling the crooked crescent moon that adorned the Mystic Falls sky that night.

She'd never seen this man before. In a town as small as Mystic Falls, it could play out into one of two scenarios; nothing at all. Or what her nerves and intuition told her was coming.

Trouble!

this chapter has been rewritten about
7 times ! and each time, it's turned out
disappointing and below average, lol.
i promise i'm trying !! i'll deffo
put in more effort to make the
upcoming chapters better :D
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me and my novice creative writing
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see y'all beautiful people on the next chapter <3