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IT FEELS LIKE MY BONES are grinding against sandpaper. Every minuscule move I make I can feel everywhere. They're bleeding me out, making me survive off of one ounce of blood every 12 hours.
I stare at the concrete ceiling with my hands on my stomach. Not a single thought went through my head. I could stay in here for decades and never turn my humanity back on. There's truly no one convincing enough for me.
A tiny bottle of blood drops at my side. I don't make an effort to pick it up.
"Eat." Damon tells me. Stefan's too much of a guilty conscience to do the job himself, so I get his brother.
I don't respond. He says it again. I don't respond. The latch clicks and he walks in. He picks up the glass and is about to shove it down my throat before it 'accidentally' slips out of his hand, spilling onto the ground.
"Oops." My gravely voice says. He rolls his eyes and walks out, closing the door. He mumbles something along the lines of god I hate witches on his way out.
I hear different foot steps walk down the stairs. New ones I haven't heard yet.
"Hey." My sister's doppelgänger says. My head turns to the side as I wave my hand pathetically. She takes the hint.
She slides another small bottle of blood onto the window sill. I vamp up to meet her face. She flinches. I open the bottle, swinging it in front of her face. Veins sprout from her eyes and she steps back.
"Baby." I groan before tossing the blood down my throat. She's about to walk away when I speak. "Hey, Elena."
"Yeah?" She walks back.
I squeeze the glass bottle till it breaks in my hand. Blood rolls down my arm. Her veins return. She unlocks the door quickly but before she can reach me I slam her into the wall, vamping out of the Salvatore boarding house.
My immediate thought was to grab a bite, so I did. I stopped by the local grill and picked up a cute brunette. I drained him of his blood and dumped him into a garbage can.
I see a familiar face witness my action, rolling my eyes.
"I was hungry." I stated simply. She nods, tapping on her coffee cup.
"Join me for a walk?" Delaney asks. I shrug, jogging to walk by her side. Small, meaningless chit-chat is thrown back and forth between us.
"I didn't think you hated Katherine that much." She says. I know what she's trying to do and she knows that I know.
"I don't hate her. I don't hate anyone. I don't feel anything." I respond simply, kicking rocks beneath my feet. "Quit trying so hard. It's not going to work."
