♤ ı [3] An Everlasting Love

ı 26 ı Twisted Cinderella

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"If the water turns to fire, if the fairytales are lies, still I'll be here"

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AFTER THAT, all hell broke loose; everyone broke out into a full on argument.

Words were slapped across faces, punching people right into their guts, hitting them where it hurt the most. There was no holding back opinions, only two sides: My side, and Jo's side. The room was filled with people throwing out reasons of why either of us should live, not solutions that could save us both. All the while Jo and I sit on the sidelines, wishing it would all just stop.

"She risked her life for you Alaric! She was going to cross the border to save your goddamn life when you were human and dying!" Damon yells viscously.

"Yeah, but who was there to save me Damon? Huh? It was Jo!" Alaric yells back, their faces inches apart.

"Blair has lived over a hundred years! She's seen everything she needs to! Jo has been through hell and back, had her own twin rip out her own spleen! She deserves to live!" Liv screams.

"Did you spend 145 years locked in a tomb? Yeah, I didn't think so!" Damon snaps. "Blair may be over one hundred years old, but she's only truly lived twenty!"

"At least she got a chance to live!" Jo deserves more!" Luke joins in.

They keep arguing back and forth, listing out reasons that are irrelevant to the problem we're trying to solve. It's really only Damon, Alaric, Liv and Luke arguing, with Stefan, James and everyone else silently standing off to the sides, throwing in random points here and there. James on the other hand is completely silent, probably in shock. I had hoped he would take my expiration date lightly, but I knew I had high hopes.

I sit at the end of the couch in the room, staring into the blazing fireplace in front of me, trying so hard to blur out their voices. Jo sits opposite to me, her posture the same. I keep my focus on the orange flames, hoping it will somehow distract me from everything. To my luck, it does distract me but not in the way I had hoped. Instead, the blazing flames bring me back to the night of the vampire round up, 1864, the night I was put into the tomb.

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"Throw them in here," I hear my father's voice say. He speaks of such confidence, such certainty like the fact he's throwing his own daughter into a tomb to rot doesn't even faze him.

I can't see anything with this woven bag over my head, my other senses extremely hyphened as I'm blind. I feel the aggressive touch of my father's men, dragging me deeper into the dark tomb. I can see shades of bright and vibrant orange peak through the bag, feel the intense heat of the flames from the torches that line the cave wall.

I take short, ragged breaths as fear takes over, my mind still searching for a way out. I try and thrash against the men's grasps, but the amount of vervain in my system has made me weaker than a human.

Suddenly I'm thrown harshly to the ground, my hands cupped in chains securing me to the wall of this tomb, ensuring I won't try to get out.

I hear violent screams all around me, of fellow people I didn't even know were vampires. I try to pull the rag off my head but my hands are bound so tight to the wall I can't quite reach it. I grit my teeth in frustration, feeling so helpless and alone when suddenly a gentle hand removes the bag, giving me the gift of sight.

To my surprise, my good friend Emily Bennett kneels in front of me, her eyes teary and sad. "Emily? What are you doing here?" I croak.

"We don't have much time," she says, grabbing hold of my head and murmuring something; she's doing some sort of spell.