Eleven;

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I remember dying as if I'd done it just yesterday

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I remember dying as if I'd done it just yesterday. I remember the searing pain, the screams that fled my mouth.

It was raining, the night I died.

"Come on El, how can you not be coming? Party of the year!" Caroline giggles, her drunken slur almost making her words inaudible.

I peer out from under the shelter of the roof of the Mystic Grill at the ever-pouring rain. Thick, cold, droplets of water slam against Windows and splash to the ground, so quickly that I can hear them hitting the floor. Mystic Grill shut hours ago, way earlier than it should've done. I think something happened with the managers family.

"I can't physically get there Caroline, without some heavy gear. It's pissing it down with rain. I'm stranded." I reply, clutching my coat tighter around me. It's alright for her, she doesn't feel the cold. I'm shivering.

"But—"

My phone buzzes, and I pull it away from my ear to see an incoming call flash on the screen.

"Hold on Car." I tell her, ignoring her protests and answering the other call, "hello?"

"Where are you? Are you home?" Damon's voice fills my ears, full of irritancy and laced with worry.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, and I laugh lightly, "No Damon I'm not home, I'm outside the Mystic Grill stranded in the rain. Stalker much?"

He growls, "Why didn't you stay home like I told you to?"

"When have I ever done what you tell me? I was on my way to a party at Caroline's place. What's the big deal? Thought you were with Elena anyway." I say, glancing out into the empty street for any sign of life. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll see someone I know, and they can give me a lift to Caroline's. She'll let me stay over.

He hisses down the phone at me, and I frown, "Eleanor get inside right now. Go into the Grill."

"I can't. It's closed. Shut up shop hours ago. Damon what's wrong with you?"

He growls again, shouting something to Stefan before talking to me, "Listen to me very carefully. Stay exactly where you are. You understand? For once in your life so as you're told."

"Why? What's happening?" I look out into the dark street again, the street lights not helping much at all.

"Katherine is—"

There's a blur, and then a figure is walking towards me. I can't see who, not until they stand underneath the street light.

Katherine.

"Damon." I whisper into the phone, "Damon Katherine's across the street. I thought she was gone?" 

She grins at me, walking toward me with no care for the rain drenching her hair, or the click of her heels in the puddles. Her eyes are fixated on me. There's something in them, something dangerous. What is she doing here?

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