Disclaimer: don't own this show or it's characters. I just wish it was owned by someone competent

A/N:I have been playing around with this idea for a little while. I was honestly not sure where I was going with it, so didn't end up writing it all. I still have to finish the last chapters of my other fic - obsessions, but loved this idea. The chapters might be a bit short, so I do apologize in advance. It's just easier to write short chapters at the moment. I don't always get chance to proof-read or update, so it helps..

I dedicate it to all the witches of vampire diaries, whose potential has been wasted. Most importantly - Bonnie and Kai. Not to mention the whole Gemini crew. Witches have been pushed aside on the show, and it has always annoyed me. They're basically just vampire servants, instead of the kick-ass supernatural beings they're supposed to be. I feel the same way about the werewolves, but they were only added in later. Witches were the first supernatural beings in canon-world. So I wanted to make a story that focuses on that, and of course BonKai. Bonnie needs focus too. 6 damn seasons, and we still ain't even seen her bedroom yet! Nor do we know about the Bennett history. It's crazy how I know more about Gemini coven after a few episodes, than I do about the Bennett's over 6 seasons! Crazy y'all. There will be other familiar witch-faces. Review and let me know if it interests you ;)

- Out of control -

I watched the car burn in the fire I had created. It was like seeing my own emotions burn away, making me feel relieved. I frowned in concentration, as I continued to add fire to the flames. I felt like I was in a trance. I could see the paint of the car bubble, turning it into gooey-ash.

I couldn't stop the satisfied smile on my lips. It felt damn good.

"Bonnie!" Was someone calling me? I didn't care.

I felt like a pyromaniac in that moment. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop staring at the raging-fire before me. The sight was truly beautiful.

"Bonnie! I said stop this now." I recognized that voice.

I was still too entranced to bother looking for the source of the voice. That was until I felt cold water hit my skin, as water was poured over me. I was dragged back into reality, and my skin was shivering cold . I stared at down at my drenched clothes in shock, then back at the car. The flames had disappeared. The damage had been done though, as the car was now blackened and ruined.

"That is enough Bonnie." Came that annoying voice again.

I turned around to see who it was. My hair and clothes were soaked, sending droplets of water around me. My father stood there with bucket in hand, looking very peeved. I had just ruined his precious car. Shame he didn't care about me, as much as his damn car.

I glared back at him. He moved past me to inspect the damage, crying out like it was the end of the world. That made me burn with fury. I had just lost my grandmother, and he was crying over a damn car; like his life was about to end.

"How did she die?" I asked. Trying my best to contain my anger.

"Bonnie, we need to get this under control." He was pointing to his car, giving me an accusatory-look.

"How did she die?" not allowing him to dodge the subject.

"We will talk about this at dinner. Now go get changed, then we can talk." He brushed past me, heading back into the house.

Emotions were overwhelming me. I could hardly think straight. I had come back from a camping trip with my friends, to find out my Grams had died from 'mysterious circumstances'. The paramedics had said it was heart failure, but I knew it was more than that. So did my father, as he was clearly hiding something. He would not clarify what had happened. I looked back at the damage I had done to his car. I would have felt satisfied, if I was not in shock. Did I really do that?

I decided to leave the questions till later. Heading inside the house, I made a show of loud footsteps up the stairs. I made sure to slam my bedroom door, hoping he would hear it. I felt short relief when I got into the hot shower. My tears were washed away with the hot-spraying water, but my emptiness did not subside.

Dinner was uneventful, as usual. I was glad for the silence between us. Usually he waffled on about his politics, as he had become mayor of our small little town of mystic falls. I was glad he decided to keep it all to himself . I was picking at my casserole with my fork, not hungry.

"Just tell me what happened," my voice filled the silence of our dining room.

"Fine. She died from doing what you just did Bonnie. She was overexerting herself, using too much magic. I don't know too much about witchcraft, but I know you're from the Bennett line of witches. Did your grandmother speak to you about any of this?" he looked hopeful.

I was still trying to put this all together, like mixed pieces of a puzzle. Yes, my grandmother had always told me I was a witch. I had loved it as a kid. The thought of being some super-magical being had excited me as a child. Although, witches were always portrayed as evil hags in fairy tales. I had smiled remembering the time I had gone crying to her, asking her why witches were the ugly-evil beings in stories. Asking why I couldn't be the Princess, instead of the hag with a wart. She had smiled in the usual Shelia-Bennett way, and told me "it's because the Princess would feel threatened Bonnie. Besides, a witch's beauty goes skin deep. While the Princess is waiting for the Prince to save her, the Witch is saving the world behind the scenes" she had told me. I had felt elated by her reply, and proceeded to tell all my friends who had made fun of me. I had begun to tell everyone I was a witch in middle school, that was until I got older. Then it was not so cool to go around telling people you had powers. I was friends with two popular cheerleaders, and knew it would not bode well for me to tell people I was a witch. I wondered at that moment, how much my father knew about all this.

"Did you always know?" I was more or less accusing him, rather than asking.

"Yes. Your mother told me all about it, and your grandmother would tell me a little. They told me one day you would start using your powers. For a while, I thought maybe they had got it wrong. I mean you didn't have any powers from I saw. Maybe you were normal like me and my family, and not a witch like your grandma thought," he finished another bite of his casserole, contemplating something.

My mother had of course abandoned me when I was a little girl. My father's family had never liked my mother, or grandmother; for that reason. They thought I would end up like them. Although they were nice enough, they always thought 'apple does not fall far from the crazy-tree' - when it came to me. My grandmother was always known for being a wack-job. She taught occult studies at college, and was always doing weird-witchy things. We always got into arguments when she tried to force her strange ways on me. It wasn't until I got my first period, and started to develop strange abilities; that I realized she might not have been lying after all.

I started to become psychic, getting premonitions when people touched me. Then came some scary stuff, when I was once able to levitate my pencil in class . She told me I had finally become a witch. That it happens during a girls first menstruation, something to do with fully connecting to the moon; which was sacred to witches.

I wasn't happy about it. While my best friends Elena and Caroline only had to worry about boys and getting their first period, I had to worry about freaky super-powers.

"I can't control it," I admitted to myself, more than my father. He looked up at me from his plate. He had stayed silent for a long time, no doubt mourning his precious car.

"I know. Which is why you're going to stay with your great-aunt." I felt like he had slapped me. I had not expected that.

"What?" I asked, still in shock.

"Your great-aunt Bonnie. She was your Grams youngest sister. Shelia always told me that if something happened to her, and you could not control your powers," he stopped. He looked at me for a good while, before continuing to speak.

"She said I needed to get you to a fellow Bennett witch straight away. It's dangerous Bonnie, that car could have exploded! You need help, help that I can't give you." He looked away, and stood up to take his plate out. He looked at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry Bonnie, it's for the best." He went off to the kitchen, leaving me in stunned silence.

I could not believe he was doing this. I know I should be thrilled at the prospect of meeting someone related to my grams, but I could not help but feel abandoned. My Grams had practically raised me most of my life. I give respect to my father for being a single parent to a young teenage girl, but he was so distant. It seemed he had always cared more about his career in politics, than his daughter. It was like he had got stuck with me. My Grams was the only thing I had close to a mother, since her daughter had left me to go raise another family. Now she was gone, and I had no one. The prospect of meeting another woman like my grams was nice, but she couldn't replace what I had lost.

Not to mention, the fact this relative had remained a secret from me. I don't remember my Grams ever talking about her siblings. Nor did my father mention a great-aunt. Yet, he was willing to send me off to go live with a total stranger?

I let out a sigh that had felt heavy on my chest, laying my head against the cold wood of the table. I felt too empty to cry. Like I had been stripped of everything that had held me together as a person.

Burning the car had drained me of any energy I had. Maybe my father was right. I am out of control.