Destruction // Kol Mikealson

Chapter Four

Remember that time when everyone found out a tomato was a fruit and everyone went mental and you thought you was cool going round school saying it? Same.
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1829
I saw Damon for the first time in 48 years since we all transitioned. We returned for our nephews funereal. I didn't talk to our nephew that much, nor did I ever see him. But the funeral was morbid and highly saddened. People stood around crying. If only humans could have a humanity switch. Stefan was now back on the rails, and of course he gave Damon another chance. As per usual.

After an initial hesitance, Damon agreed to come for a drink with us. We talked about how much we missed home, and the murdering of our father.

The boys didn't have a good life with our father, they usually got beat or upset by his temper. However, I on the other hand was a daddies girl. I sat on his back, he held me, cradled me. As I got older things started to change. He seemed to distance himself from me, which I didn't understand. However when Stefan tore his head off and we all fled, I didn't really have much feelings. That's me, I can shut my feelings off. Not my humanity.

Damon had met a girl called Sage. She was a red head, had it long and in a braid back then. Curled as she whispered into Damons ear.

It didn't at all end well, Sage left. Damon was hungry and was viscously chewing and sucking the blood out of a random neck he had pulled into a back alley. Stefan, who was terrible at self control like me, rushed over to him, draining the neck. And taring it off, making the head roll.

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10:30
My eyes fluttered open, back into my old room. I had a large kings sized bed, with bed posts in each corner, reaching up and making a roof of curtain swing from each side. The floor was dark laminate, and the balcony had stained white glass with crosses engraved. In the corner, my familiar dressing table filled with the old accessories.

Last time I visited was 1959 after rumours Damon has escaped Dr. Whitmore in the Augustine cell.

I was sworn not to tell anyone, especially Stefan. And that, was when Damon shut off his humanity for his 3rd time.

Now I'm just curled in my bed, feeling the wishes and breeze trough my balcony, the soft curtains of white blowing slightly. I sit up in my bed, seeing my on suite bathroom shimmering the gold and silver I had decorated it with. How classy.

I lift my self off my mattress, swinging my legs over the edge and tapping my feet across the floor. My wardrobe.

It catches my eye, the tall cupboard that hasn't been filled since the 1950's. Surely there's something appropriate to wear in there? Maybe some ripped jeans? And top, defiantly no heeled boots.

As I thought. Just rails, and rails, and rails of colourful Bridget ball gowns of dresses. Big ruffles and winged laced white material circling the bottom, pink silk roses mid way sealing every curl of the lace. The waist was small and a dipped down of pink and white waved cloth was to stay on the edge of the shoulders. It was beautiful. More, a shimmering blue and black dress, the richest one. Worth almost 100 shillings. That was a lot back then.

I sighed, my hand trailing the silks and soft touch of my longing feeling that era to come back.

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