After the death of Clarrisa, the truth about this family unfolded. Dark and bright. But with these dark truths unfolding, and the person to explain them gone, things are turning wrong. Elijah and Ethan want revenge on Clarrisa's death. The witches a...
From the day you are just a tiny little un-gendered creature in your mother's womb till the day your eye lids shut to never open again, things are pretty nice.
It's just that when your family decides to have an open casket, you are ridden of your organs. Even as a vampire, that too a Mikaelson, i am afraid to lose one. Some would call me a hypocrite, cause my father is a professional heart ripper, but hell i love my intestines, and I'd rather be burnt than losing my digestive system.
And the even pain full part is i have to watch myself being ripped off my intestines.
"Hello" - the funeral director said as she cut open my stomach.
Oh no! Here it comes ..... My intestines. She is gonna take my intestines.
If i find Ethan or Klaus or Rebekah or even dad walking anywhere near my body, i might just possess one of them. And take someone else's intestines out, maybe.
Okay she need psychological help.
"A healthy set you have Miss Mikaelson. Sad you die at 19."- she said packing my organs in a bag.
18. To be specific.
Kol, Davina, Freya and my witchy brothers all where busy trying to find a spell strong enough to revive me, that they didn't notice Klaus and Marcel shipping my body off. Dad, right now might be drunk or angry or both. Daisy might be writing. Others i don't know about. They are all i have been watching for the past 3 days. And now this pretty brunette. She is sexy by the way, yet a brainless nut head to talk to organs and cells and tissues.
Okay, i am done here. I need to find someone else to watch rather my own body and this crack head.
.......
Funny, how i am the most powerful creature on this planet. Atleast was till 3 days ago. And your death only bothers your family and no one else.
The city was still bustling, markets still open, tourists roaming, food still being made and my dad pouring another shot of whiskey.
People say after you are dead, you are freed from the worries and sins of this world. But that's untrue, cause as a dead person all you see is this. Every where you go, you either find something biblicaly sinful or something that you might miss or something you didn't even knew existed. Till the time you have breath in your lungs, you can chose what to see and hear, and what to ignore. To have your favorite cuisines and visit the places in your bucket list.
For the last three days, my father is either shouting at his siblings or drinking off his sworrows and angers.
"Okay! Old man, i don't know if you can hear me or not. If whiskey can bring me back, countinue. Or else stop drinking, you look pathetic. Dad. I know it's a good and alluring drink, but you can't drink it off its existence. Leave it for my next life...... You look bloody pathetic. You'll loose your liver. "
Well i am going to lose one at least.
I look around his new pent house in New Orleans. It's big and all. It has many of my paintings, even my violin and guitar. A piano, but that's his. The furniture was all in shades of black, grey, white. The finishing every thing was done in similar colours.
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It was beautiful, and cold. The windows to the balcony was open and the black marbel stairs freezing my ass was not my only concern.
It was the man in front of me, a father who i wanted all my life and never found. A man i thought never loved me. Drinking his way through my loss. I don't know what to think, to feel and how to do something to help him.
