𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, Damon Salvatore [under editing]

1.38 | DEATH ANNIVERSARY

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈
⏤ Death Anniversary ⏤
❝Deranged, psychotic... a coincidence configured in hell...❞

          𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀'𝐒 eyes were fixed on the carved letters on the gravestone; scraped and worn away over the time, almost to the point where she could barely make out her own name or date of death. The letters O-L-Y-V-I-A were completely blurred into a mess of confusing lines that were almost unreadable to the eye. She called herself Olivia, opposed to the variant spelling with a y ⏤ this girl Olyvia wasn't truly her. Without the memories, that girl faded to exist and so the name seemed to lack meaning to her. The subtle change of the i whilst unnoticeable, made a large difference to who she was.

Glancing back at the gravestone she furrowed her brows at the scrambled letters below her name. She had previously attempted to figure out her birthday, or birth year at least, but the words were worn into oblivion and were now completely indistinguishable.

She wasn't really one for birthday celebrations anyway though, so she supposed it didn't really matter. She guessed it was just nice having something, even if it was as simple as a date. Something she could hang onto and whilst she supposed she had her necklace, the silver chain was more of a physical possession, whereas a date; this date held some form of emotional attachment that Olivia longed to one day understand. So whereas this may have not been as special or monumental as a birthday, the anniversary of her death was the one thing she couldn't quite let go of.

Though if she was being technical about it, she supposed her birthday would be tomorrow, considering the time she died was around midnight and all; or at least she presumed it was. From the consistent dreams and visions about a girl being killed at the brink of night, she found it difficult to believe it could be anyone else but her.

The only reason Olivia celebrated the so-called occasion the day before the actual date, was because on her actual death anniversary, dating back for centuries, something strange always seemed to occur. Not just strange though, it was more than that. Every year, without doubt, something catastrophic would happen ⏤ usually concerning her directly. Eventually, after centuries of bad events, she figured she might as well celebrate on the previous date and prepare herself for the following day of hell by bringing herself one of peace.

The blonde's thoughts continued in a steady pattern, drifting off deeply. Most of which revolved around the reason why she always experienced such strange occurrences on her birthdays. Though she supposed it was pointless questioning that thought as being the supernatural led to supernatural possibilities.

Maintaining complete focus on her thoughts and the grave in front of her, Olivia barely noticed when someone she had yet to meet before approached her. The woman paused several feet away from her, watching her calculatingly before finally speaking.