The Girl Who Saw The World

Chapter One: Physical Items Can Hold Great Memories

3rd POV

To say people freaked out when they saw what Camilla looked like, was an understatement, and Camilla couldn't really blame them. Despite living in a werewolf village, she was the strangest of them all with her maroon locks, her pale skin, and what was most freaky, was her eyes; one of which was a beautiful turquoise blue, and the other being a pale sea green. But her family did not find her features freaky, in fact, they found them beautiful, and no matter how strange they were a lot of the young boys in the village found her beautiful as well.

But they didn't point out the fact, that Camilla was indeed a strange child, who already knew too much of the world. She had never once spoken; she was mute, and had been ever since she could remember. No one in the large family have once heard her utter a word, and at first, they believed the child may be deaf, but she was not deaf, for she could still hear them, and would always nod, or make hand gestures to what she was trying to tell them.

And during the times she did not speak, she simply watched the world unfold before her very eyes. She observed people, and how they acted with one another, and Camilla already held onto the concept of what the world was like; she knew about death, about survival, about the suffering in life that you must just simply endure.

Currently, the odd ball sat onto the crispy grass, with her back pressed against a tree, as she watched the other children play with each other, and the little village operate like they always do. She held her doll to her chest, playing with its arms. She didn't notice the look sent her way from one of the younger boys of the village; a boy named Jethro, a ten-year-old with black hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes, who was currently kicking a buddle of twigs that had been shaped into a sphere with a couple of other boys. When he had a made a goal, he looked over at Camilla, smiling widely, but then frowned when he noticed she wasn't paying attention, so, he left the game to go over and make her notice. "What you doing Camilla," He asked, with a slight sneer in his voice, one that had been an accident.

Camilla looked up at him, tilting her head to the side while her doe-like eyes seemed to sparkle. Jethro held down a blush, and scrunched his nose up. It was obvious she was an adorable girl, and by this time, his family wanted him to find a suitable wife for when he got older. He had found Camilla suitable enough, she was only two years younger than him, not like age mattered in this current time period, and he actually quite liked her; problem was, was that he didn't know how to act around her, he liked her, he just didn't know how to show it correctly. Camilla looked up at him, raising up her completely black clad doll by it arms, showing him the thing was keep her occupied. Jethro glared at the doll. How could this stupid thing be more interesting than watching him dominate the other boys in their game? He grabbed her doll, making the maroon haired girl gasp and jump up to reach it as he held it out of her reach. "Dolls are so boring, you don't even need them," the black haired boy stated, chucking the black doll into a mud puddle. Camilla covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock, and ran over to her ruined doll, pulling him out of the mud, and trying to wipe him clean, holding back the tears that threatened to burst from her eyes.

"Hey, what did you do," Camilla's brother Henrik yelled, running over to Camilla whose eyes were glossy with unshed tears.

"She was playing with her boring doll," Jethro defended, crossing his arms defiantly as he trying to stare him down, but failed because Henrik was a couple inches taller than the other black haired boy, and despite Henrik being a kind boy, he was protective of his little sister as well as everybody else in the family. Jethro gave up, walking away, only glancing back at Camilla once with guilt filled eyes. Truthfully, Jethro thought that maybe she'd be thankful, or something, but he saw what he did was wrong, but being as stubborn as his father, he refused to admit it; but that didn't mean he feel sorry for her, he never expected her to act like that.

"C'mon sistah,' let's go home," Henrik said lovingly, patting her head. "I'm sure mother can fix your doll." Camilla nodded, looking up at her brother; she held her dirty doll to her chest, tears still not breaking. She followed her brother back home, wondering what the heck she did to deserve this. After all, she had just been sitting there, minding her own business, and then of course mean Jethro had to come up to her and ruin her the moment of peace she received from being alone.

Her home was quite chaotic, and most of it was from her father, who found it necessary to beat Niklaus just because he hated him and he wasn't his son. And then there was his yelling fits he had from time to time, and it was from when someone decided to stand up for their blonde brother, which surprisingly, was usually Camilla, who found that Niklaus never deserved anything that their father gave him.

"Oh no, what happened," Elijah said, walking up to the duo and breaking the bi-colored eyed girl from her thoughts. She looked up to her older, taller brother, and then, she couldn't stand it anymore. Tears spilled over her cream colored cheeks, light sobs escaping from her throat. The black doll was important to her; her grandmother gave it to her before she died, and considering her grandmother died when she was very young, so this doll was the only memory she had of her.

"Jethro, again. He threw he doll into the mud," Henrik answered, looking down at his sister. Elijah frowned, crouching down; he opened his arms letting Camilla run over to him. She leaped into her comforting arms, letting herself relax when she smelled his masculine scent and felt the warmth than came over his body.

"I don't understand that boy," Elijah sighed, letting Camilla go when she started to squirm when she started to feel uncomfortable. She loved hugs, but after a certain amount of time, hugs made her feel awkward and uncomfortable.

"I think he just likes her," Rebekah said, walking up to Elijah with a basket of berries in her arms, and who had just listened in on their conversation. "Here, let me see your doll Cami." Camilla handed her sister her doll, and Rebekah grabbed the small toy with ease, looking over it. "Don't worry, I'm sure mother and I can fix it, so stop your crying," she said softly, running a hand through her sister's locks, holding the black doll in her other hand. Camilla nodded; she then turned around and went over to their hut. She walked inside, shutting herself in the room she shared with her sister, and wrapping herself in bear fur that acted more like a blanket.

"Bekah, oh, Cami, what's wrong love?" Klaus said, walking into their room expecting Rebekah only to find his youngest sister whose eyes were red most likely from crying. He cupped her cheeks, rubbing away the lingering salt water in her cheeks, and ducking his head to try to look deeply into her eyes. Camilla moved her hands to indicate doll, and Klaus quickly caught on. He pulled the maroon girl into his arms, pressing a kiss on top of her head.

Yes, everybody in the family indeed cared a lot for Camilla. They all loved her greatly and would show her often through the things they said, the things they did, and all the loving actions they gave her which were kisses, hugs, and ruffling her hair. What Camilla didn't know, was that she wasn't related to any of them at all. She was simply found as a baby in the woods, alone and crying, and they took her in for some strange reason they didn't know today, but all of them were glad they did.

To be continued…

A/N: I don't own Vampire Diaries. And please review/favorite/follow!