Chapter 17 - 2x19

5.7K 127 30
                                    

Kaitlyn P

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Kaitlyn P.O.V.

In loving memory of

ROSALYN PAIGE

January 23rd, 1827

August 12th, 1865

Since the few months I had come back to Mystic Falls, I hadn't dared step foot here. I didn't need to. More so, I didn't want to. I was scared. 

I remembered the exact day she was buried. It was a cloudy day, the sun was hiding as if even it couldn't bear the sight of my dead mother. She was never supposed to die. She was supposed to be there when I got married when I had my first child when I grew old. She was supposed to take care of me until she couldn't. 

My hands grazed the cold gravestone, my fingers feeling the words etched with care. The entire town had cared for her. She had been kind to everyone, and they in return thought she was an angel. I almost laughed at the irony.

My mother. An angel. 

Me. An angel. 

My mind struggled to grasp it. I was supposedly this divine celestial being, but I sure didn't look like it. Weren't angels supposed to be always generous, always kind, or at least beautiful? I wasn't at least two of those things. 

I got angry, I lashed out, I couldn't form relationships. I didn't give people second chances, I pushed everyone out, I couldn't stay positive. 

Klaus had said that I was a form of beauty, that I could potentially become one of the most powerful creatures on the planet. He probably thought that would make me happy, but all it did was make me nauseous.

How could I, the girl who hardly passed science, have power so big? How would I have control over it?

With great power, comes great responsibility. I remembered hearing that line once, from a movie I couldn't remember. Whoever said it was wise. 

If my mother were here, she would help me. She always knew what to do when I was sad. Whenever I had a scraped knee or a scratched elbow, she would bend down, wipe away my tears, and tell me to be strong. 

"You're such a tough girl, my sweet Lyn. You can overcome anything. Surely a scraped elbow won't knock you down."

"I wish you were here with me," I whispered, kneeling down on the grass. "I'm lost, Mommy. I don't know what to do. Why did you have to die? Why did you have to leave me alone?!"

My voice cracked on the question, and I furiously wiped away the tears which threatened to fall. I had still been wondering why and how my mother had died. Angels were supposed to live forever, weren't they? 

What on earth could kill an angel?

I faintly remembered her saying that her life was being sucked, but she was delirious at the time, literally on death's door. 

His Angel - Klaus MikaelsonWhere stories live. Discover now