Tell me how it is.

Dear whom this may concern,

Usually, a story like mine starts out about how I tell you how I came to be reborn in this once fictional world. I then go on to describe being birthed, then an amazing childhood where I'm better than everyone else and everyone likes me except for the characters I wasn't to found of when I was just a fan. I would do incredibly selfish and illogical stuff, be super powerful, and hot. Maybe all of those things happen in my story, but I'm not sure, considering this was no fanfiction and was very much real life. So there were no plots, no worrying about what this character was doing or not doing. No silly biases from before. There was just then and now. Reality.

I was reborn in the body of Bonnie Bennett from the vampire diaries. Be angry all you want, but facts or facts and I didn't ask for this. I never really got the chance to sit and think about all of the things I would do differently from original Bonnie, because things were different from the jump. Anyway, when it all came to a head, there was only one thing I really wanted to change about the vampire diaries in the beginning, and that was Tanner's death. Yeah, I know.

It all will make sense when you hear my story. I learned that sometimes reality looks different when it's your reality.

Sincerely,

Bonnie (Victoria) Bennett

(Turn a Page)

It took me months to realize I had been reborn and I'm still not sure if or how I died in the first place. My mind, it just sort of accepted its new reality at first, not noting how odd it was to go from a fully functioning adult, to a little thing that needed help burping and wore a diaper. But it all happened quite suddenly, one minute I was sipping contently on apple juice from a sippy cup, the next I became aware. A million thoughts hit me at once.

Sheila noticed the same time I did. One minute she was humming to me gently, mumbling something about being magical, next she completely stiffened. Then she was staring down at me with wide, panicked eyes.

"No," she had whispered as she held me out from her body. "No," she said more firmly. "You are not my granddaughter. You return her soul right now and leave her body." Her hold had tightened on me. "You hear me? Bring her back now!" Despite being an adult mentally, I couldn't speak yet. I could only stare at her, drop my sippy cup and whimper. The fact that eyes that had just been gazing down at me so gently, but now was filled with rage hurt.

"Mom, what are you doing?" Suddenly I was pressed into the chest of Bonnie's mother. I was very happy in that moment that it was still early and she hadn't skipped town. "You were hurting her!"

"Take a good look at that thing, child." Sheila's whole body shook. "Take a good look at that thing. She is not my granddaughter, but a life thief who stole her body."

I hadn't realized I was crying until I had felt Abby rubbing my back. "Mom, you're talking crazy." Abby denied. "How much have you drank?" She demanded.

"Nothing," Sheila snapped and pointed a crocked finger at me. "Use your powers, the ones you seem hell bent on refusing to say you have and take a good long look at that thing. That is not Bonnie!"

Abby did look at me, her brow furrowed. She licked her lips and shook her head. "Mom, this is Bonnie, my child and your grandchild."

"That is no grandchild of mine! Do you not get that the real Bonnie is lost, pushed aside because it invaded its body?"

Abby bit her lip and sighed. "Maybe we should leave. Get some rest, mom."

"Fine, go," Sheila was crying, "I will find out how to get the real Bonnie back while you take that thing away."

Abby said nothing else as she rushed out of the home, me in her arms.

(TAP)

I took the whole being reborn thing quite well, it was everyone else who seemed to have trouble with it. Sheila obviously hated my guts. She didn't have anything to do with me for the first three years, ignoring me, except for when she bounded my powers and said it was because they weren't mine to begin with. Abby noticed my lack of a childish nature and intelligence quickly, which kinda added more weight to her crazy mother's theory. She treated me differently, it was so stark opposite to how she was before. Gone were the hugs and kisses, bed time stories, and play dates with baby Caroline and Elena. I was isolated, kept in my room for hours. Abby avoided me like I was a plague, fulfilling her motherly duties by making sure I was fed, clothed, and bathed, but not much else. Rudy wasn't around often enough to feel any sort of way about me, but he treated me like a human and not a body stealing leech. He was without a doubt my favorite person in the beginning.

I'm sure some of you are wondering why I didn't try communicating better with Sheila once I got speaking down. Well, even before my second life I knew a thing or two about how stubborn black women could be. Speaking to her always ended up with her claiming I was back talking her, followed by a scolding. Oh, and don't forget the claims I was acting grown, she loved that one. She wasn't going to listen to me or believe anything said by me, someone who she thought was the reason her real granddaughter didn't exist. The show had always made it seem like Sheila was nice. Reality, not so much.

I was three years old when the parents divorced and Abby sneaked out of town like a jittery mistress out of her sugar daddy's house after his wife's girl's vacation was cut short. Rudy was restless after spending a couple of months without five star hotels on his company's bill and only with the charms of a Mystic Falls to fall back on. Plus, he wasn't sure how to handle being the single parent of a young child. I even made it easy on him by dusting off a couple of the dolls in my closet and guilt him into playing with me, I didn't want him to scare him off like I did Abby and acted like the child I was. I was happy for the company but Rudy hated Mystic Falls and loved work. It wasn't very long before he was begging Sheila to watch me for a couple of weeks while he worked to 'provide for the grandchild you like to pretend you don't have!'

I was left standing in the foyer of Sheila's home while Rudy ran back to the car to get my bags. Sheila stared at me distastefully while I stood and clutched a stuffed, purple hippo I had named, Moe, short for mo' money mo' problems. Moe was my only friend, sad I know. Despite being and adult, I had still been sensitive in that way children were and plus, I had always been kind of soft, even back in my other life. I was afraid of Sheila.

Rudy had come back in the house, kissed my cheek and dropped my bag down next to me, said be good before leaving without saying a word to Sheila. They really hated each other.

I just stood there, shifting on tiny feet, and avoided the older woman's gaze. I worried she was just say fuck everything and set me on fire, but she didn't do that, instead she took a step towards me and wrenched the hippo out of my bony arms.

"Your act won't fool me, life thief." She sneered. I had frowned and blinked back tears. "Now go, watch tv in the living room. I want it to be like you're not even here."

Watch tv I did. It was better than sitting in my room isolated with nothing but kiddie books as company, but still lonely. I had never watched tv so much before, I could literally quote entire series three weeks in. Sheila didn't bother me at first, just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich left sitting on the kitchen table twice a day and drunken rants in the evening reminded me she was around. I slept on the couch and didn't really move around the rest of the house, I don't think I was allowed to anyway.

It was summer and I was four then. Rudy barely called, let alone came back to visit. Grams still hated my guts and I could tell my constant presence was really bothering her then, so I made myself scarce by playing out on the front porch mostly. If I went further she would get angry.

She still yelled at me every night then, and cursed me, getting angrier and angrier with each roadblock in her search for ways of returning the real Bonnie to her body. Sometimes she would get in my face and scream, breath hot and heavy with the smell of liquor. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't afraid she would hit me. At the time I felt as if she was close to it and only got closer with each episode.

It was hard. Being this toddler who couldn't protect herself or leave an obviously horrible situation. I couldn't do much or control anything really, all but one thing. My emotions, I decided I would hate Sheila, Abby, and Rudy as well, even though sometimes I don't think I really did. I think I really just wanted them to accept me. I knew I hated myself though, I hated myself for hating my self. It wasn't my fault I ended up in Bonnie's body, but I hated to look in the mirror at my stolen face.

Anyway, it was summer the first time Sheila dragged me to the attic, tied me to the floor which had some type of symbol drawn on it. She had been mumbling to herself the whole day and I had just stayed quiet as I normally would.

I didn't do much of anything as she tied my arms out wide with rough rope. I just watched her with my stomach churning. I only started to wiggle when she stepped towards me with a thin blade.

"Mrs. Sheila, what are you doing?" I questioned as I lightly tugged at the rope. My heart galloped so fast it felt as if the floor was vibrating.

"Be still and quiet," she snapped. "It'll be over soon and you'll be back where you belong." I had whimpered when she bent beside me. "Open your hand," she demanded as she tugged at my small hand, forcing my hand to open. She swiftly cut the palm of my hand.

I had cried out, but she ignored me and moved to my bare foot, slicing that, followed by my other hand and foot. She then stood back as I bled from my hands and feet, she avoided looking at me as she began to chant.

She had chanted for what I think was hours, growing, hoarse, frustrated, and teary before she finally stopped. My wounds had stopped bleeding and I was light headed, her chanting had caused me to black out.

"Why is it not working?" She had moaned. "I'm sorry, granddaughter," for a second I thought she was talking to me and hope had filled my chest, "I will find out how to bring you back. I will not give up," then my hope was dashed.

She tried that spell I think two more times after that first time. My little hands, arms, feet and ankles were cut up and I grew to fear the sound of Sheila's heels clicking down the hall as she came to collect me.

When I turned five I found Moe underneath the kitchen sink, got him back, and hid him underneath the couch when I wasn't clutching and crying into fake purple fur.

When she realized that it was working didn't mean she gave up, no there were more spells she tried. Most of them painful for me and was required I bleed somehow.

I don't know what happened, but Rudy stopped coming back and I knew Sheila had become my legal guardian. That didn't mean anything, she was obsessed with getting 'Bonnie' back, she wasn't about to let me get away.

I had been sitting at the kitchen table, slowly eating another peanut butter sandwich. I remember my body was sore because the spell Sheila had tried a week before had made most of my body cramp for a full day. She had been quiet that week, not bothering me much, it was a relief as much as it was a worry.

I should have known something was up. She had been drinking more lately and seemed more unhinged. I heard her heels moving down the stairs and the piece of sandwich I had been eating stuck going down. I had fidgeted as she entered the kitchen, but couldn't bring myself to look at her.

"Come, life thief, we are going for a ride." Her thin hands found my shoulder and I tensed but slid from my chair.

"Where are we going Mrs. Sheila?" I asked, nerves making me talkative.

"Don't worry about it," she said coldly and pushed me towards the kitchen door.

(TAP)

To this day I don't remember what happened exactly, just waking up in the arms of some police man as he carried me into the hospital as fast as he could. I had been covered in mud and bleeding from my stomach.

I learned later that Sheila had been charged with child abuse and attempted murder. The case made national news, but neither Rudy or Abby returned for me. I had thought then who could blame them, I had hijacked their real daughter's body.

I was put into foster care, that went as good as one might think. Some of the homes were good, most weren't. I don't talk much about those, though living with Sheila had technically been worse.

I was seven when Mr. Tanner became my foster father. I won't tell a lie and say he was some awesome guy who was totally misunderstood. He was a jerk. He only became a foster parent because the checks he received helped him pay back a gambling debt he owed.

In a weird way I'm still glad I ended up there. His gambling addiction after all kept me in one home and not moving all around, there were no older kids stealing my stuff and beating me up, no jealous old women who pointed out and highlighted everything you did wrong with harsh words and heavy hands, and most of all he wasn't some heart-broken witch obsessed with finding her long lost grandchild.

Mr. Tanner was alright with me.