So, coming up with a long first chapter to a new story is apparently what I do on relaxing pool holidays abroad. Hope you like it :)

April 29, 2010 - Present Day.

In the beginning, it felt like I was drowning, in more ways than one. I kept kicking and thrashing against the looming heaviness which threatened to pull me back down. Sometimes I believed that I had almost reached the surface until something grabbed my ankle and dragged me into an endless, black void.

That was how I felt today. As I lay there staring up at the ceiling with blank open eyes, a pen twirling absentmindedly between my fingertips, I could almost see my surroundings darken ever so slightly. I blinked. A tear rolled down my cheek and soaked into the steadily dampening pillow beneath me.

I listlessly turned my head to the right, my unfocused gaze drifting towards the desk where the little black book lay.

Its contents held a story of feelings, wishes and beliefs. It told the story of a young girl and all she had suffered over the short course of her apparently uneventful life. With the simple action of ink to paper, it portrayed that young girl's deepest and most darkest thoughts. Secrets that not even her family knew about. They would tear them apart if they did.

After all, no one would ever expect that this lonely little girl's only friend and one true companion was a dreamt up stranger with no face. An imaginary friend who seemingly appeared to her during deep trials of suffering, to guide her away from the dark watery depths and back towards the surface of life.

And he was quite good at it to be told... in his own charismatic, unconventional way.

I knew he would come to me tonight. Despite my current state, my lips twitched up into a soft yet momentary smile.

But first I had to pass the time and get through the day. And like every other day since I received that little black book, I would open it and continue to spill my story to the silent paper listener.

I slowly sat up and groggily rubbed the dark bags beneath my tired and sleepless eyes. The pen spun faster and faster between my thumb and forefinger.

It was going be difficult today. What could I possibly write to aptly describe how I was feeling? How could I even begin to put my wave of turbulent thoughts into words? Words were limited compared to my unbounded thoughts and emotions.

'He would know what to say,' a part of me mulled despondently. 'He would know exactly what to say, what to do.' Even when our relationship barely passed the stage of acquaintances, he always had my back. Was always able to rationalise the emotions I could never speak aloud.

'Like kindred spirits,' I continued to muse. Another tear spilled down my cheek. 'Connected together in a shared feeling of agony.'

Because whenever death showed its face in my life, I would find him again in my subconscious. And the thought of seeing him again... it excited and terrified me. Because now death seemed to surround me at every turn.

Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I was always looking.

Looking for a way to see him again.

It started on the worst day of my life. When I was just some innocent, spirited teenager who indulged in everything which freedom had to offer.

I had spent the night in psychedelic colour, created through the blurred drunken gaze of a night time party. And it had been a party to remember, for all the wrong reasons...

May 23, 2009

The bonfire crackled and danced to the energetic beat of the music. Bodies swayed, plastic cups were thrust high into the air as arms languidly waved around the roaring flames. I watched them all from my leaning spot against a small chestnut, through unfocused eyes with a woozy remnant of a smile on my face.

"You should so not be drinking," a familiar voice stated and my humoured smile widened as she made her approach. When her footsteps came to a disapproving halt behind me, I took a single exaggerated sip from my drink before turning around.

At the sight of her crossed arms, I slowly lowered the cup and curiously appraised her. "Are you mom?"

She blinked and her arms fell to her sides as she struggled to comprehend where this conversation was going.

"What?" she questioned.

"Are you?" I repeated and she paused, her arched eyebrows lowering into a frown.

"No?"

I turned my back on her with a small smirk. "Then shove off."

From behind me she let out a long huff and my lips tilted up further. "Alright, I'm cutting you off," she stated.

I was ready for her approach and swiftly dodged her flailing hands before twisting away without a single stumble in step.

I stared gobsmacked at my drink which hadn't even slopped one drop of liquid to the ground before grinning in triumph at her slowly growing red cheeks and narrowed gaze. "Have to be faster than that, sister."

She shot me a look of poison and thrust her arm out once more. Without a passing thought, I gracefully ducked under her determined open palm and backed away, relishing once again in my triumph. I toasted her with a wink before raising the drink to my lips. But I never tasted the sweet lowering of inhibitions as the cup was suddenly swiped from my grasp.

Briefly startled for a passing moment, my fingers curled in and felt nothing except air. I slowly turned round and my confusion was quickly abated at the sight of abashed bright blue eyes staring back into mine.

Narrowing my eyes on the stolen drink hanging limply in his grasp, I tutted mockingly. "Bad way to get into the little sister's books, Donovan."

Matt said nothing, his blue eyes drifting over my shoulder to cast a hopeful gaze as my sister closed the distance between them.

"Thanks Matt," she whispered softly, slipping her fingers between his and he grinned his dimpled smile.

"Anytime, Elena."

But when he gently squeezed her hand, Elena hesitated. As if coming to a decision, she stood on tiptoe and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek before stepping away.

I shuffled from one foot to the other and scanned around, searching for any way to get me out of the hell currently transpiring on Matt Donovan's crestfallen face and Elena's awkward stance as he dejectedly turned away.

I watched him retreat back to the party and waited until he was fully out of earshot before letting out a long sigh. "Well that was pure, unedifying torture."

Elena cringed at my comment and her shoulders slumped. "Was I that obvious?" she groaned and I arched one eyebrow.

"Flying cars would have been more discreet." When she bit her lip and stared off in the distance, I rolled my eyes, exasperated. "My God Elena, it's not hard. Just say you don't want to bang him."

"It's not that simple, Kiah," Elena argued back before she let out a low breath and admitted quietly, "I don't know how I feel."

"Well then, how about I spell it out for you," I responded with forced calm to hide the bubbling laughter which threatened to burst through my lips. "Sweet, innocent Matty is this little piece of string and you, my dear sister, are pulling it along."

Elena opened her mouth to let out an aghast retort but I just danced forwards and placed a finger to her lips. "Ah ah, I'm right you're wrong. This conversation is over."

A sudden vibration from my jeans pocket broke our concentration and I grinned.

"Ooh, I'm getting a call," I exclaimed before excitedly fishing out the device with a grin. Recognising the caller, I held up a hand to halt Elena's attempt to continue our pointless argument. She huffed as I placed the phone to my ear. "Jennnnaaa!" I happily slurred.

"You, young lady should be here. At home. Asleep." My Aunt's indignant tone vibrated through the speaker but I could hear her sluggish tone which mirrored mine to a tee. "And jumping out the window? Really Kiah?"

"Hey I was careful," I defended myself, swaying to the steady beat of music playing far in the distance. "Like a stealthish, stealthily ninja. Anyway, like you haven't done worse."

Jenna spluttered, finding no comeback to her poor infused decisions of drugs and alcohol which had transpired during her youth.

Elena stepped forwards and held out an expectant hand. I paused before reluctantly relenting. "Aunt Jenna is mom there? Elena wants advice on poor life choices and we would be eternally grateful if somebody could pick us up."

"Us?" Jenna repeated shrewdly and I raised my shoulders in a half-hearted shrug.

"I'm bored."

"Having second thoughts of ditching family night?" I could already hear the smug lilt to her tone and I let her relish in that victory.

For five whole seconds.

"Are you playing Pictionary?" I questioned her mildly.

"Yeah," came her gleeful reply.

"Are you drawing?"

"Of course."

"Then no. Not really." In the background I could hear stifled laughter and the tiny pit in my stomach extinguished. Least mom and dad weren't too angry about Elena sneaking me out if their sense of humour still remained intact. "But I am a tad bit tipsy. And I want my bed."

I didn't allow Jenna a chance to reply as I thrust the phone into my sister's hand. She walked a small distance away to give herself the semblance of privacy.

"Hey, it's me," she uttered and I craned my head slightly to one side and slowly edged forwards to listen in. "Matt and I got into a fight," she explained hurriedly. "He was talking about college and marriage and all the stuff that he always talks about and I just..." her voice broke and I chewed the inside of my lip sadly. "I couldn't."

There was a small pause. Elena's doe eyes swam with hopeless tears threatening to fall as she whispered, "Yeah, but I don't want to lose him."

I stepped forwards, intrigued in mom's reply and after a few more moments, Elena hung up the phone. I watched her as she closed her eyes and let out a deep steadying breath. "I'm breaking up with him," she whispered.

And I had already bloody recommended to her that little snippet.

I leaned languidly back against the tree and crossed my arms, adopting an expression of utmost offence. "So you listen to mom's stellar advice but not mine?" I replied mockingly but Elena decided not to listen to my comment in favour of filing through her own thoughts.

"I'm setting him free, that's what matters," she finally replied. It was her meek attempt to assure herself. "He'll be fine."

I wasn't so sure. The quarterback was already besotted with my sister. Although letting him go was the right thing to do, I knew that all future encounters with Matt Donovan would be awkward, distant and cold for a very long time to come. That boy wouldn't be moving on for a while.

Elena remained lost in her thoughts and I continued my silent observation of her, the world still spinning around me as the alcohol seeped through my bloodstream.

Not five minutes had passed and I soon found myself surrounded by the familiar warmth of the car.

Mom and Dad had both come, said it wasn't family night without us. I couldn't feel more guilty. I would have been fine walking back but Elena insisted.

And what she said usually goes. As always.

Head sagging softly against the window, I turned to press my forehead against the cool glass pane, allowing the condensation to cool my flushed face.

The conversation we had in the car I barely remembered as I stared unseeingly out the window, watching the rain steadily pour from the skies.

And then Elena began to scream. The tires screeched, the car swerved... and then we were falling.

All I could feel was pain. Sharp, stinging agony. I couldn't breathe, too winded to inhale a single, simple breath. My eyes wouldn't open, my head too heavy to move away from the window from where it had smacked against the unyielding glass pane.

My surroundings were blurring, I could hear the engine spluttering and wheezing on the brink of death but still holding on to a single threaded strand. It wasn't enough. It was simply too weak to restart.

Somewhere to the left I could make out Elena's faint yells. "Dad?! Dad!"

"We're gonna be okay, I promise," Dad replied but even with his reassurances I could feel my shoes dampening. Water was seeping over my trainers, up my legs. Encasing them in an inescapable, liquid tomb.

Yet I couldn't find it in me to feel afraid. Everything hurt; my body screamed and ached and throbbed but I was too tired to soothe the pain.

With great resilience, I moved my arm up to my head, coating my quivering fingers in something sticky at my temple before all my energy gave out. My muscles surrendered and my arm flopped to the side. My head lolled, no longer finding the strength to stay up.

"Dad! Oh my God, Kiah!"

My sister was shouting. Screaming. Pleading with some unknown entity for help.

A low groan vibrated in my throat but it never made it past my lips.

"Kiah sweetheart, I need you to stay awake a bit longer, okay?" Dad's tone was desperate. But I could no longer hear him. He was barely an echo passing over my ears.

I was floating through a dark chasm of mist and wind and rain. Weightless and free, I flew through a colourless sky. I let my eyelids flutter closed as I revelled in the feeling of complete and utter peace.

And then the peace was shattered into tiny shards. My body jerked and my eyes shot open as my feet hit solid ground. I stumbled forwards, barely catching my balance as I straightened up and looked around.

'One thing was for certain,' a small part of me mused. 'Wherever I was, it was not in Mystic Falls.'

I turned this way and that, taking strict note of my surroundings. I was standing on a pavement edge. Buildings of various shapes and sizes lined the wide, open street. But the colour was faded, not as vibrant, like an incomplete coating of paint, washed away by each drop of rain which pelted the smooth, stone ground.

My footsteps never made a sound as I walked through the desolate city like a silent ghost. The rain poured steadily around me, dampening my clothes, my shoes, my hair. Shuddering, I pushed the dripping deep maple strands impatiently behind my ears and pulled my jacket tighter around me but the dark denim offered little comfort of warmth.

Thicker shadows rose up around me as I glanced around the dark street, looking for something, some kind of clue pertaining to my lucid dreaming of a faded city.

It was over my shoulder, to the corner on my immediate right that I saw it, stood apart from the surrounding drab colours. It didn't quite fit with the lined buildings of dominoes waiting to fall.

The wrought iron gates loomed over me; its shadow casting my face in darkness. I gripped its railings, peering inside but the gas lamps and antique statues with creepers crawling over their stone frames did nothing to hold my attention. It was the iron sigil plastered sturdily upon the towering brick pillar. Upon the metal crest protruded an elegant letter 'M'.

The curiosity was almost stifling and I fell victim to intrigue. I shakily reached out and let my fingers lightly trace over the rusted crest, feeling the smoothness against my skin despite the centuries of decay. I couldn't pull away, becoming more entranced the longer I stared. A faint wind swept past my face and I shivered at its icy cold touch on my flesh.

"You're not supposed to be here."

My body froze. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled from unease and a rising, paralyzing fear. It was a casual, airy statement but I noticed the subtle undertone. The voice held a dark menace. A danger. A tone sharper than the cutting edge of a knife.

One thing was now certain. I was not alone here. I was being watched. And he was standing right behind me.

I slowly turned. My heart pumped blood through my veins with a vigorous, pulsing adrenaline.

He stepped into my line of sight, the only vibrant light in this shadowed city of slate colour. And when I saw him, everything froze.

'It was like I had been flung back in time,' I mused as I let my gaze roam over his frame, never daring to cast a glance upon his face. 'Because this man seemed to have been pulled out of some twentieth century novel.'

A black waistcoat covered a grey collared shirt which had been rolled carelessly up at the sleeves; the fabric fitted so snugly to his frame that I could make out the faint, lean muscles rippling underneath. Swallowing hard to dampen my dry throat, my eyes flitted down to his dark dress pants and smooth black shoes.

He was one of the elite; he carried himself with confidence. Borderline arrogance. And it drew me in like a moth to a flame, my background yearning so potent and rising with every passing second.

Apprehension flooded my veins and my legs locked themselves in place as I fought the terrifying urge to step forwards but a saner part of my mind was holding me back; some primal instinct urging me to run far away.

Because it had noticed the little things.

At a first glance, there was a subtle grace to his steps as he moved, like the smooth flow of a river... but every pace seemed calculated. The more I stared, the more unsettled the river became.

He was gauging my reaction, I realised with underlying horror. Because now he was advancing swiftly, cornering me in before I lost my nerve.

Heart pounding, I stumbled back. That was when I raised my gaze, daring to look upon the face of this shadowed stranger. Then and there, I quickly noted that there was something very, very wrong.

"Why do you have no face?" The words came tumbling quick out of my mouth and the man paused in his steps. I should have stopped there but once I had started I just couldn't stop. "Your head is just this one big blur, it's creepy."

"Now isn't this interesting," he exclaimed as he drew near. "For what seems like a bloody lifetime, I've been trapped in this merciless stasis and here I've been sent a woman who can't appreciate my dashingly good looks. Much like I can't appreciate the pretty little bird standing in front of me... welcome to my own personal brand of hell, darling."

He was close enough for me to feel his breath on my cheek, his body flush against mine. My lips slowly parted to let out a steadying breath. I couldn't move, my mouth too dry to speak. A faint pink dusted my cheeks, baffled by his sudden change in emotion.

He leaned in and I instinctively craned my head to the side as his lips lightly brushed the shell of my ear. My body stilled; taut with anticipation as his silky whisper flooded me with sinful temptation. "Although, I have to admit, this is the most entertainment I've had in centuries."

"You should get out more often then," I whispered, unable to avoid the jibe and he pulled back slightly. I could tell he intrigued by my dry humour rising up in self-defence, to distract me from an unknown fear still present in the back of my mind. "Go to the circus, watch a parade. Find things which add a bit more flare."

"Well, it's not as if I can exactly pick and choose here," he smoothly retorted. "Blame my dear bastard of a brother, condemning me to an eternity of black endless misery... you'll just have to do."

I couldn't begin to fathom the implications of his words as his hand suddenly shot out, clasping over my wrist. Without warning, I found myself pulled up against him. My eyes widened and I clenched his biceps hard as he dipped his head and trailed his lips slowly up my throat. My heart stuttered when he paused, hovering over my pulse.

A scrape of teeth over my flesh had me inhaling a short breath to hold back a sudden surge of fear. "What the hell are you doing?" I stuttered.

"Nothing on you, love." He nipped the skin lightly, eliciting an unwilling gasp from my throat. "Usually I enjoy a chase but I am quite famished."

The words hit me like a blow into reality. Without conscious thought, my palm was on his cheek and pushing his face away. Then arching my back, I put as much distance between us as the arm holding me tight allowed.

"Ok dick," I snapped, glaring up at the hazy face before me. "Brother issues be damned. Get your bloody jaws away from my neck."

"Just one small taste," he breathed, turning his head, his warm breath wafting over my palm. "I'm not usually the type to turn down something so tempting and you darling, smell delectable."

My eyes narrowed into slits. "Yeah mate, try all you want, this is my dream and it's not fucking happening."

My hands slid to his chest and pressed hard. The arms around me loosened and not one to miss an opportunity, I stumbled back, running a hand agitatedly through my hair.

"Great, just my bloody luck isn't it?" I muttered. "The first time I ever dream up a man and he turns out to be a cannibal."

"Your dream?" he questioned behind me and I rolled my eyes, listening to the vague undertones of humour. "My my, don't we have some peculiar kinks. Don't worry, I'm all too willing to oblige." He approached me again. "Although calling me a cannibal is quite contemptuous don't you think? I much rather prefer vampire."

When he reached for me again, I swiftly smacked his hands before backing away and he chuckled, unaffected.

"Shame this dream didn't blur out your voice as well as your head," I commented in disdain.

"Now why would you want to do that?" he questioned innocently and I crossed my arms, refusing to answer or even look in his direction. He laughed quietly and retreated back one step, holding up his arms in a gesture of surrender. "Okay I'll admit it, we got off on a bad foot. Mostly my fault."

I scoffed and reluctantly let my arms drop. "You think?"

If he noticed my sarcasm, it didn't sway him in the slightest. "Let's start over. What's your name, love?"

Disbelief coated my face and I blinked, unable to keep up with whatever fucked up thought processes were passing through his head. "What makes you think you deserve to know?" I questioned.

"Oh come now darling, don't be a tease. I'd rather put a name to that pretty face before you divulge your life story to me." He extended a hand, wiggling his fingers. "So how about it?"

Despite the situation, I found myself hiding a small smile. We both knew he hadn't the faintest idea of what I looked like.

Sighing, I surrendered and stepped forwards, placing my hand in his. "I'm..." I suddenly broke off, confusion passing through my mind as my throat clogged. "I'm..."

"Cat got your tongue?" The teasing lilt to his tone aggravated me as I attempted again and again, to no avail.

"I can't say it," I uttered and my eyebrows lowered. "Why can't I say it?"

It was silent for a few seconds and I watched him, our hands still joined between us.

"Any luck?" I queried.

When he finally spoke again, his tone was as baffled as mine. "Well that's quite the conundrum. Seems we'll both have to put that curiosity of ours to one side for now, little dreamer. Until then... call me Ares."

"Violent and untamed," I mused. Then I smirked. "It's like it was made for you."

"Come on," he encouraged softly. "Indulge me a little."

I chewed on my lip, carefully considering my knowledge of the Greek Gods and Goddesses I encountered growing up in film and literature. Then it came to me. And I decided to play along. "Pasithea."

"Thea." He lifted my hand to his lips and brushed a light kiss over the skin. "A pleasure darling."

My hand suddenly contracted around his. The two of us looked down and I watched, nonplussed as my nails dug deep welts into his flesh.

It was then when I felt it. An agony so excruciating, I wanted to scream. It tore through my chest, my heart my lungs, slashing them into ribbons. Spots danced over my eyes and I began to dangerously sway.

Sensing something was wrong, Ares' arms swiftly encircled my waist and my arms shot out, hands clutching his shoulders for support. "I know this roguish body has swooned women for centuries but let's not get too ahead of ourselves just yet," he commented lightly and I quickly released him, stumbling back on heavy legs.

"I..." I spluttered, turning this way and that in blind panic. My breaths came in shocked and ragged gasps, fighting desperately for air to fuel my burning lungs. "I think I'm d-dying."

My knees buckled beneath me. I fell. And time began to slow.

The world darkened to a lightless black as I smacked hard against the ground. The buildings around me dissolved into a grey mist. Shaking, I flattened my palms on the tarmac and attempted to push myself up but my muscles screamed and I let out a hoarse cry before collapsing down.

Above my head, lightning bolts struck the sky in violent bursts, the thunder roared in anger and the rain pelted down from the black abyss.

An unintelligible voice was suddenly calling out through the turbulent sky and Ares looked up, his head to one side as if trying to listen before kneeling down by my convulsing form. He brushed aside a sopping strand of my hair with strange tenderness, a far cry from all the arrogance before.

"Delicate little thing aren't you?" he mused.

My insides were aching, gasping, screaming and I echoed that sound as my body contorted into an arch, flipping itself around onto my front. My palms slammed against the ground to brace myself as water spilled from my mouth and mixed in with the puddles of rainwater.

"I'm afraid," I managed to gasp through a violent stream of coughs and wretches. I was dying and I was well and truly terrified. My white face looked up to Ares, an avenging angel in the gathering darkness. "I don't want to die," I begged. "Not yet. I'm not ready."

"Oh, bloody hell," Ares growled and his arms were immediately around me, pulling my limp body close to his chest. His hand curled over my nape, stroking the clammy skin as he pressed my head firmly against his shoulder. "Don't tell anybody I did this for you."

I choked out a sob in reply and he held me tight as I uncontrollably jerked in his arms.

Suddenly I couldn't feel the warm comfort of his touch and wearily raised my head. My stomach turned. My hands were fading before my very eyes.

Ares was gone in a cascade of smoke and I was hurtling through blinding flashes of white light...

'Beep. Beep. Beep.'

The sound rang through my ears in its continuous, monotonous rhythm. Groaning, I forced my eyes open.

I was in a hospital of white walls and sterilized smells. To my right, the machine beeped steadily, mechanical proof of my continued existence. Then just off to my left, sitting close to my bedside were my sister and twin brother. Their stricken gazes stared back into my tired amber orbs.

I didn't tell them about the strange experience. I didn't want to. Although I remembered every word, I was already forgetting his smooth, tantalising tone. It was fading from my memory, melting away and it sent a stinging pang through my chest.

Whether a one off or not, nobody could ever know. Nobody would understand. Ares was a secret which was mine and mine alone to keep.

"You're okay," Elena breathed and I looked at her blankly, still uncomprehending. Before I had time to process her words, she had leaped forwards; her arms wrapping tight round my waist, her head buried in my neck. Her body shook uncontrollably.

"Course I'm okay I'm always okay," I whispered, a little surprised by her choked back sob. When she finally pulled back, I struggled into a more comfortable sitting position and Jeremy started forwards to help.

After sending a spiteful glower towards the needle embedded in my arm, I turned my undivided attention back to my siblings, replacing my ire with a grin.

"Wusses. The both of you," I uttered and the two of them blinked in synchrony. "Worrying about little ol' me?" I arched a perfect brow with a playful gleam in my eye. "Cry when I'm dead. Or rejoice in the devil's torment when I dance through the fires of hell."

They didn't smile. No even a twitch to their lips. Dread began to pool in the pit of my stomach and my temple throbbed hard.

"What is it?" I warily questioned. "What's wrong?" They didn't answer but I could see the tears in their eyes overflow and spill down their cheeks.

I quickly scanned the room and my heart began to clench and pound as I realised what was missing.

"Where's mom?" I whispered the question like a delicate child. The monitor beep was increasing to a violent crescendo as I tilted on the verge of panic. "Elena? Where's mom and dad?"

The first of my tears fell.

That was the first crack in the bond of our family.

April 29, 2010 - Present Day.

After that I quickly came to realise that the small boring town of Mystic Falls was no stranger to death. As the number of resident casualties increased, I began to see him more and more... Ares... the stranger with a made up name. He never seemed to go away and my tolerating soon turned to welcoming.

I lay down once more, sinking back into the pillows and casted my gaze to the ceiling. The pen still spun between my fingers as I thought.

I suppose the truth of the matter was that I was lonely. And I liked to believe he was too.

Because the way he spoke to me... it felt like I was all he had.

A sad smile passed over my face as I wound my mind back over the past long year.

Although there had been so many insignificant losses which triggered my lucid dreaming, it was just over three months ago when the next number up on death's list hit me. Like a blow to the chest and knocking me off balance once more.

She wasn't family but I had still known her. I had still cared. And that counted.

January 23, 2010

I was sitting in the living room, my whole body stone still, unable to fathom, to comprehend. In front of me the TV played, never pausing, never stopping. On the screen there stood a woman with short, wavy golden brown hair, her features forgettable but her expression was grave.

An image popped up on the top right of the screen and the frozen face in the photo I recognised all too well.

The golden haired woman spoke, her voice clear and it sent a cold, heart-breaking chill down my spine."... death of Victoria Donovan, a beloved sister, daughter and friend. At noon today, the residents of Mystic Falls will gather by the clock tower to mourn another tragic loss in their community. This is Andie Star reporting from WPKW9 news."

Jeremy took a seat beside me, his dark eyes fixed unseeingly on the screen. "She would want me to move on with my life," he uttered and I blanched at the cold robotic edge to his voice.

Then my moment of surprise was quickly replaced by a red hot rage and it was quickly growing.

"How the hell can you just sit there and say that?" I whispered, my voice deadly and sensing my rising anger, my twin whipped around to face me. His mouth was open and about to retort but I wasn't having it. "You were a puppy chasing a bone when it came to that girl. And now you want to throw her away like yesterday's trash? Jump in the sack with that girl Anna the first chance you get?"

I slammed my hands down on the wooden table, the bang echoing round the room. My brother flinched at the screech of the chair legs scraping back as I got to my feet.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Jer?"

Jeremy leapt to his feet, his dark orbs sparking with anger as he glared at my resolute amber eyes. "What the hell are you saying, Kiah?" he demanded and despite his taller frame, I squared my shoulders.

"Vicki Donovan may have been a druggie but she knew never to cross the line. She would never have left Matt alone."

Jeremy froze and I took the opportunity to shove past him. It took a few seconds for him to shake himself out of it. "Hey, where are you going?" he shouted.

"To grieve the girl," I spat without turning round. "Don't fucking follow me."

As I stormed around the corner to the stairs, I quickly found my pathway blocked by two people. I didn't even have to look to see who they both were. For one of them, his mouth usually spoke for itself.

And sure enough, there came the familiar, amused, sarcastic drawl. "Well the littlest Gilbert sure is testy today, wouldn't you say Elena?"

"Damon," my sister chastised but I wasn't taking any more of this shit.

"Move it, friend zone,' I snarled and shoved past him, taking advantage of his momentary stunned silence.

Ignoring Elena's faint mumbles of, "Let her go," I ascended the stairs two at a time before collapsing on the bed and finally letting the tears fall.

Time passed, I realised. There were people outside living their lives and sparing no thought for the grieving girl curled up and crying silently by the second story window.

The light outside had died long before a faint knock sounded on my door.

"Can I come in?" Jeremy pleaded and I just shrugged my shoulders.

"It's a free country."

He took a seat on the bed beside me and I slowly lifted my head off the comfort of my pillows.

"It couldn't have been a drug overdose," he whispered. "I thought that by going to Anna, she could help me get over her. Maybe even help me find out what happened."

I tiredly pulled myself into a sitting position and curled up, wrapping my arms around my knees and clenching the corresponding wrist tight.

For a moment everything was silent. The unsaid apology settled between us.

I didn't feel the tear trickle down my cheek but I felt the small bite of coldness from the track it left. "Why does everybody have to die around us, Jer?" I whispered.

Out of my line of view, Jeremy froze and blinked hard. It was if he was recalling some long lost memory, his face one of faint shock and betrayal before changing to hard determination.

But he stayed by my side that night. The light of the moon shone brightly through the windows as his hand ran soothingly through my hair, gently coaxing me to a world where there was significantly less pain.

"Why so glum, chum? Who died?"

I sighed and slumped down against the porch steps, not bothering to watch his approach. He never looked any different. His high statured attire never changed and I'd rather not be affected by his presence today like some giggling schoolgirl.

"If you're here to gloat or mock then piss off," I muttered and he exhaled a low sigh before flinging his body down beside mine. One leg bent towards his chest, the other stretched languidly out in front of him.

"Darling Thea, we really need to meet under less depressing circumstances."

"If you have any suggestions I'm all bloody ears at this point," I uttered, staring blankly ahead. "Not that it matters anyway," I said with a cold laugh. "You're not real. You're just a fantasy."

"I'm flattered."

His hand slid beneath my arms and around my waist, pulling me to his side. I rested my head on his shoulder, too exhausted to pull away.

"Come on then, out with it," he encouraged and I bit down on my lip hard, catching my breath as his hand slipped under my shirt. His fingertips danced light circles along my skin and I shut my eyes tight, attempting to ignore the usual sizzle of heat which sparked with his every touch. "What did your wretched siblings do?"

"Apart from the normal isolation and secrets?" I questioned wryly. "Deaths of people I care about which can't be explained?" I shook my head and quietly admitted, "I feel like an outsider looking in."

"Nothing wrong with being the black sheep of the family," Ares hummed and I tilted my head, catching on quick to the resentful edge residing behind his tone.

"Might take us both a tad bit longer to actually believe that," I murmured and as expected, his fingers paused momentarily in their light caresses on my skin.

"So where exactly have you brought me this time, little dreamer?"

I nodded to myself, not surprised by his obvious deflection and surrendered to the normal light-hearted banter to distract us from the reality we lived in.

"Finally admitting that you're just something that exists in my head?" I wondered.

"For today," he responded lightly. "Tomorrow is another day."

"It's home," I uttered, staring up at the building in front of me. Focusing in on the windows where the light shone enough for me to see shadows moving behind the drawn curtains. "The way it used to be."

But it was all fictional imagination. Deep down I knew if I stood up now and opened the front door, nobody would be there to greet me.

"You know. This place seems oddly familiar..." Ares mused but it was all faint to my ears as I whipped around to face him fully. He drew back, faintly fazed by the sudden loss of heat between us.

"Why do you appear to me?" I demanded and when he opened his mouth to reply, I quickly added, "And none of that crap about bestowing your handsome looks upon the rest of mankind."

"I only care about bestowing my handsome looks upon you, darling. The rest of mankind can suffer."

I cocked my head to the side, letting him know of my obvious disapproval and he reluctantly elaborated.

"Because I'm bored... I have nothing better to do, nowhere else to go..."

He then stared straight into my eyes and for a fleeting second, I thought he could see me through the hazy blur surrounding my face.

"Because if not," he said seriously. "I think I might just go mad."

April 29, 2010 - Present Day.

A sudden yet soft knock on the door jerked me from my swallowing, melancholy thoughts.

Dragging my gaze away from the little black book upon the wooden desk, I sat up. The pen fell from my limp grasp onto the softness of the quilt beneath me. Blinking back a second wave of tears which threatened to spill down my cheeks, I rubbed a hand over my weary face and managed to force out a hoarse, "Come in."

The door silently swung open and I raised my tired head to appraise the sullen expression coating my twin's face as he peered round the doorframe.

"You ready?" His voice was quiet. Soft. I knew it was his attempt at comfort but it didn't make it any less awkward. It had been a long few months since we last properly talked.

Forcing out a jerky nod, I pushed myself from the bed and hastily brushed down my long, black dress to smooth out the faint wrinkles. "Elena here?" I questioned as I threw my long tresses up into a high pony. The maple brown locks seemed less vibrant today. More deeper in colour... darker. Coinciding with the events to come.

"She's coming down, she's just reading a letter - from John," he added at my probing gaze and I paused in the last loop of the bobble as my heart faintly panged once more.

John Gilbert. My uncle. Elena's biological father.

Just another dead family member to add to the list of the departed.

"We're cursed aren't we?" I whispered into the silent room. Jeremy looked in my direction but his eyes were just as unseeing as mine. I slowly straightened up, resisting the urge to crawl back into bed and curl up into a tight ball. Instinctively, I crossed my arms to suppress an involuntary shiver which had nothing to do with the cold. "Seems like everybody we love just ends up getting hurt."

"It's not our fault," Jeremy muttered darkly, his gaze narrowed as we descended the stairs. Curious, I followed his line of sight and stopped short.

Jeremy sighed as I hissed, "Why the fuck are they here?"

"For Elena," he whispered back and my shoulders slumped.

Of course.

I could feel their looks of pity boring into the back of my head. It threatened to drown me with tears but I never once turned. In times like these, I envied my sister. She always had somebody by her side. I needed that. I needed stability. Somebody to dull the pain... the overwhelming grief which threatened to drag me under.

"I need him," I whispered and Jeremy looked to me.

"Need who?" he questioned.

I didn't answer. And he didn't care, the two of us too consumed in our loss for him to even start questioning that something could be very wrong with my small words of admittance.

When a creak sounded from above, I straightened up and stared ahead without emotion as my sister descended the stairs.

For a moment we all looked at each other. The last remaining members of the Gilbert family brought together once more to connect in their shared grief.

"Let's go."

The funeral was beautiful and it was sad.

I stood at the back, a silent observer. No one approached or offered me comfort. I suppose they didn't know how to any more.

Jeremy stood tall, a grieving boy trying to be strong for his family and Elena remained kneeling beside the grave, tears streaking down her cheeks. When Damon passed her to stand by Stefan, she glanced up and the two of them shared a small smile. But there was something in the older Salvatore's eyes today. A sense of hopeless loss.

My brows furrowed as I scanned the cemetery. The more I watched, the more unanswered questions were uncovered. My gaze drifted from Bonnie to Stefan and back again. I could see grief and guilt in their faces... and I could also see rage.

Secrets and lies surrounded me and for once, I didn't want answers.

When everybody started to dwindle away, I stepped out from beneath the shadow of the large oak and knelt down.

As I stared at the elegant words forever etched into stone, new thoughts diffused through my head. Where were Aunt Jenna's friends from the university? Why did they not show? Surely they would have heard about the car crash? Did they simply not care?

But a sadder truth made its way to the forefront of my mind as the tears began to fall.

Had she felt just as alone? Neglected by our family's deception?

"I lied you know," I whispered. "About the sodding Pictionary. I didn't give a damn that you sucked, I didn't give a damn that you were a shoddy guardian."

A glimmer of a small, faint smile crossed my face before it was overridden by a soft sob.

"You made me laugh when I couldn't," I choked quietly. "You got me through hell when I thought the flames would mar my skin."

I extended my arm and lay a single dark red rose on the freshly dug soil. I never felt the sting of the thorn pierce my flesh or the single speck of blood which dripped from my fingertip.

"I love you, Aunt Jenna," I whispered. "I couldn't have done this without you."

As I rose to my feet, my attention was drawn to the left, towards another grave which made my heart sting.

IN MEMORY

GRAYSON GILBERT

MIRANDA SOMMERS GILBERT

MAY 23, 2009

LOVING PARENTS

I inhaled a deep breath and walked away, leaving the echoes of the dead behind.

The rose petals on Jenna Sommers' grave glistened in the magenta hues of the setting sun.

For once I was glad he couldn't see my face. He wouldn't have liked what he saw. My amber eyes had lost their shine. My ponytail was gradually coming undone, the dark strands falling lifelessly around my face.

But I should have known better. By now he could easily see through my every facade.

Ares took one look at my slumped shoulders, my quivering frame and held out one simple hand.

"Come here."

I slipped my shaking hand into his and he tugged me to him. His arms encircled my torso as I wrapped mine around his shoulders.

"Back again, darling? One might start to get the wrong idea."

I smiled sadly and pressed my forehead against his chest. My eyes closed and my body relaxed as his fingers teased a comforting path through my hair. "Well, you distract me," I breathed. "So don't get too ahead of yourself."

"Are you using me, little dreamer?" he exclaimed in mock offence and I raised my head.

"Well you are mine," I declared with a light laugh, reaching up and running my thumb lightly along his jaw, over the small cleft on his chin as I attempted to imagine the defined shape in my head. "A part of my imagination."

"Well now, I feel branded," he uttered, sounding utterly put out. "But I suppose I can allow your claim on me until I get that pesky dagger out of my chest. After that our roles are reversed."

My heart stuttered as he suddenly tangled his hand in my hair and angled my head to one side.

"Now, where will I decide to mark you?" he mused and paused for a second, watching me tremble in anticipation before leaning in.

"How about here?" A quick nip at the base of my throat had me jerking in his inescapable hold as I attempted to hold back a low moan. He was drowning me in a seductive sea of pleasure and the damn bastard knew it. He had been playing this game a long time after all.

His lips brushed over my cheek to the corner of my lips and I shuddered, feeling his hot breath on mine. My lips were parted, my cheeks had flooded with heat. He was waiting for my next move. And I didn't disappoint.

"You can try. Cannibal."

He laughed. "I'll take that as a challenge."

His grip on my hair loosened but he continued to hold me, his forehead pressed against my own, still craving the temptation of the touch I had denied.

Although I couldn't see his eyes, I knew they were burning with dark promise into mine.

"You know, I'm starting to like our little talks," I breathed, meaning it as a light tease but Ares paused.

His thumb absentmindedly rubbed light circles over the back of my hand as he thoughtfully replied, "You know what, strange as it is, so am I."

April 30, 2010 - Present Day.

My eyelids fluttered open with a small smile. In the past few months I had loved and I had lost. Although I still had time to grieve, the world would keep on turning on and today was a new day.

Ares' words had given me strength. I knew what I needed to do. To rid myself of the past and start anew.

I sat up, still clothed in my black funeral dress and slowly crossed the room with all my thoughts and feelings a whir.

What would I say? What would I write? Who in the hell would believe me anyway if I ever spoke the truth aloud?

All these questions swarmed my mind and somehow, as I slid gracefully into the chair behind the desk, upon which the little black book lay, I knew exactly how to start. The way my sister always started.

With some paper, a pen and a story to tell.

I took in a deep breath and lifted the pen once more. It quivered between my fingertips as I finally placed the nib to paper.

"Dear Diary..."

And just like that the ink began to flow. And it would continue to do so until my hand muscles screamed for sweet release.

"I am Kiannah Gilbert. And this is my story. A tale of an imaginary boy and the girl who dared to dream."