Heartlines ▹ Elena Gilbert [1]

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX
THE REALITY OF THIS LIFE

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     "Oh my god." Those seemed to be the only words Rowan was capable of saying. She was covered in blood, her shirt was coated in it, and she kept slipping on the floor each time she moved. Her hand was desperately trying to stop the blood flowing from her mother's neck. She hadn't blacked out long, just a few seconds, but those few seconds were more than enough. Her mother had already lost consciousness, and she wasn't sure how much longer she had before her heart gave out. She knew, deep down, that she had ripped open some major vein, and she could hear her mother's heart slowing and slowing. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she choked back a sob as she scrambled for any idea on what to do. "Oh my god, mom, please. Please wake up. Please."

Suddenly remembering that vampires had healing abilities, she let go of her mother's neck and bit into her wrist so hard that more blood started to spill everywhere. She barely noticed the pain, barely noticed anything aside from the fact that her mother was dying. Because of her. She desperately pressed her wrist to her mother's mouth and waited. Waited to see if it would work. When she saw her mother swallow—if only a little bit—she looked at her neck and released a heart-wrenching sound when she saw the wound start to seal shut. It had worked. She bowed her head and pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to stifle the sobs suddenly ripping up her throat. She cried until her throat was hoarse, until her eyes were red and puffy and she could barely see anything, much less breathe. Then she leaned down and cupped her mother's face, willing her to wake up and open her eyes.

She was healed. Rowan had healed her. She should have been awake.

"C'mon, mom," she said weakly, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her a little. Her eyelashes fluttered, but that was the only response she got. Panic started to rise in Rowan's chest. "Please. Please, momma, you have to wake up. Please." Her voice cracked, and then she was on her feet, scrambling for the landline phone on the kitchen counter. She barely noticed the blood smearing the number pad. She typed in the number that kept repeating in her head. She hadn't even realized she had memorized it until that moment. She had to call twice before the person answered, and Rowan let out another sob when they did.

"Hello?"

"Stefan?" Rowan said, and she could barely recognize her own voice. For a moment, she wondered if Stefan would. There was a beat of silence, and then she could hear Stefan telling people to move, could hear him shoving through a crowd of people, could hear a restaurant door being shoved open. After that, all she could hear was the quiet of an empty street and cars driving by on the road. By then, Rowan was able to talk again, and she didn't bother explaining. She just started spitting out random words in a blind panic. "Stefan, please. Please help me. I didn't—I didn't mean to, I didn't, please—" She broke into another round of sobs again, leaning against the counter for support and smearing even more blood. She didn't want to look at the mess she had made, didn't want to look at her mother still lying unconscious on the ground.