Anastasia Salvatore (Vampire Diaries fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-One

"I'm not going" I say to Stefan as I sit on my bed, my knees to my chest.

"Why?" He questions me.

"Because I don't want to" I mutter not looking at him, instead I stare at the crack between the curtains, allowing a little bit of sun in my room.

"Just because you don't want to doesn't mean you shouldn't" He states.

"I don't want to go okay?" I snap my head to him.

"Why are you in such a mood?" He questions me.

"I am not in a mood"

"Well obviously you are. Is something bothering you? Did Elijah do something?" He bombards me with questions.

"God Stefan can't I have just one day where I don't have to act like everything is fine? Some days I just need to sit and think. I haven't been able to do this in years. So yes, today is just going to be one of those days." I say to him as he stares at me.

"That's all you had to say. But you need to know you can come to me whenever you do have days like these okay?" He softly tells me.

"Please, save your sympathy for a time when I actually want it." I roll my eyes looking back over at the curtain.

"I'll be home at three..." He mutters as I could hear the slight heart break within his voice. I know he just wants to help and to be there for me but I don't him want to be. Sometimes wounds take a bit longer to heal than others. And in this instance, as corny as it sounds, it's my heart. I've had this wound for over one hundred and sixty years. God, how ridiculous do I sound? Oh, ow, my heart; it's something most people call heartbreak. I just want to get over it...

...I knew a boy once. A kind, gentle boy who only cared for one thing in his life. That one thing being me. I wanted to protect him from the demons within my life though I failed at doing so. It's my fault he is dead. I know it happened a hundred and sixty so years ago, I never got the chance to move on. Everything happened so fast I... Next thing I knew I was killing people for the thrill and hunger. Death seemed so glamorous. But thinking about it now, none of those people I killed on purpose felt pain. Not the kind of pain Ben felt... He was hung and had to struggle for air as I watched. I watched him die in front of my eyes and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

And now, I'm worried that my life is going to somehow fuck up someone else's life. Elijah's life... He doesn't deserve what I have to offer. Yet another selfless person has put me first, receiving a terrible reward. It's Elijah turn to find out what his reward is. Will it be death? Just like Ben? Or will it be even worse? And yet, I refuse to give him up. I refuse to leave him and give him a better life. I am a selfish person.

God I hate these god damn emotions. It's a useless necessity. I miss not having my humanity.

Flashback

"He was a famous trumpet man from old Chicago way, He had a boogie style that no one else could play. He was the top man at his craft, But then his number came up, and he was gone with the draft. He's in the army now, a-blowin' reveille. He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of company B" This song. This bloody song. The Andrews Sisters have done it again. Once again I find myself covering another one of their songs in a bar full of army soldiers. I only do it for the attention. Sure, there are two other girls on stage with me but let's be honest, I'm the best looking out of the three of us. I sound the best too. I've had decades to practice. No I am not narcissistic. I'm just honest.

"Of company B!" We finish the song in our small triangular positions as applause is fed to us. Whistles and cheers pour from the soldiers as they are finally given a night away from guns and death. Or so they thought. I smile down at the young men as I scan the audience for the perfect man to satisfy me. One, two, three... perfect. Hello handsome. I jump down from the stage, not being overly far from the ground. I adjust my army uniform, pulling my rough green skirt down as I shuffle along in my performance ready black, ever so slightly heeled shoes. I run my hands over my perfectly pinned back hair. I make my way over to the gentleman as my heels click against the wooden floor.