The Original Cailest (An Originals/Vampire Diaries Fanfic)

Chapter 1: This Land Is My Land.

"Welcome to New Orleans!"

The tour guide's words fill my ears with hope and joy. I actually made it. My eyes linger from the group of tourists across the sidewalk to  the a trio of "voodoo" witches selling merchandise on the streets. New Orleans is nothing as I imagined it, which goes to show you cannot trust the television and movies. That's fine though, I prefer this version anyhow.

"You are kidding me!" I hear one of the "witches" say. "Never in all my years of living here have we every had this little business!" 

She has lived here for a while? Maybe she can help me.

Ever since I was little, I've known that my dad wasn't my dad. Jackson Honeycutt, my mother's husband, didn't look, act, or was family like me. He never particularly liked me for some reason, maybe he also knew deep down that I was not his daughter. My mom, on the other hand, would act as if nothing about our family was dysfunctional, like the man whom I shared's last name with was the man who helped her give me life. My mother kept the happy charade going until she fell deathly ill with cancer. After she discovered she had such a limited time on this earth, she decided to reveal her most deep and dark secret to me.

Jackson Honeycutt was not my father, but my stepfather.

Surprise surprise.

According to Mom, she met my real dad while working on a photo shoot in Niagara Falls.My mom, then a photographer for nature, was taking pictures of the falls when she dropped her camera. My biological father met her as he retrieved it for her. My mother, Elissa, quickly became inf actuated with the man and they were romantically involved within the week. This man, whomever he was, had my mother either roped or whipped. He had her spill all her secrets to him, all her inner demons, all in one night. Apparently he loved to speak about New Orleans, the one place he referred to as home. Mom went how she loved the sweet sound of his voice, and how I had the same way of carrying his sickly sweet tone. He had power over her. He convinced her to switch from nature photography to portrait photography, which she did until she was diagnosed with cancer. It only took two weeks. Two weeks for romance to blossom, two weeks for Mom to be changed forever by him.

Two weeks for a baby to be made.

When my mother's stay was finished the two parted separate ways, never to see one another again. That's when she remembered she had a home, a family, a husband, all waiting for her back in a place called North Augusta, South Carolina.

When my mother finished her story she pressed a picture into my hand. A picture of a man, who I knew was indeed my actual father. After my mother passed away I knew what I had to do.

I had a seventeen year old picture and a passed on dreamland.

At least it's a place to start.

I slowly make my way to the booth of women trying to pass themselves as mistresses of voodoo.  I quickly pay for one of their vials of solution, this one for true love. After I pay I look to the older woman, who spoke earlier. and attempt to make small talk. "You lived here long?"

"Only about my entire life, I've known every resident on this side of town for the past forty years."

I can feel my eyes light up with delight and hope. I slowly take the picture from my jean pocket, clutching it protectively in my hand. "Then maybe you could help me find someone. I don't know his name, but I have a picture and I have to meet him. You don't know how much it would mean to me."

She beckons me forward. "Let me see child."

 I hand her my most beloved possesion, and for a split milisecond our fingers touch. She jolts, like being shocked, but quickly shrugs it off, though her eyes widen at the look of the man in the picture.

"I cannot tell you who this man is." She claims. "But there is someone who can." She motions for me to lean in close, so no one else can hear. "You are looking for man by the name of Marcel, he can help you with your dilemma. You will find him at a bar around at dark. Do not tell anyone we spoke."

I nod, confused, and take the only living piece of my biological parent I own back. "Thank you so much." And with that, I leave.

****

After the girl with the photograph walks away, Katrina, the woman who informed the girl,ordered for her daughter to call a Night-walker. Her youngest daughter, Mary, is quick to hand her thecellular device.

"This is Katrina." She says. "Tell Marcel to prepare himself, he has a visitor coming his way. And she is looking for a certian friend of his"

_______________________

Thanks for reading!