(A/n: Hey everyone! I am writing this story, because I am really interested about Stefan & Damon's mother, I mean we know little to nothing about her. That is why I am writing this story; also there aren't a lot of stories about her. P.s. Elena is not a vampire. Enjoy please review!)

Chp.1

Damon was sitting on a couch in the parlor drinking a glass of Bourbon, wearing a black V-neck and dark jeans. He was thinking about his mother, and about how she was the only one who chose him first. Stefan was always their father's, Katherine's, & now Elena's first choice.

He was remembering a time when their family was happy. His father not hating him, and his mother loving life. He was only seven years old when his mother died in childbirth with Stefan. When his mother died, Damon couldn't even look at Stefan thinking because of him she died.

Their father had gone over the edge when their mother died. He would disappear for many hours, sometimes even days and return smelling like alcohol. Their father even threw away everything that was once hers, except the things Damon managed to keep. He kept his mother's picture, her favorite necklace, her favorite book, & her wedding ring.

Damon still had all those her things locked away in his room. He didn't want anyone to know that he had kept her things. Back when he was human he hid it under his pillow. Only the maids knew about the items. His father never came out of his study, so he never found it. Damon never fully understood why his father hated him. He did everything he could to try to please his father. With his mother he never even had to try.

Damon heard a loud crash. He went around the house looking for what it was and what is wanted. He was not in the mood to deal with anyone. He reached the living room, when he saw one the glass window shattered into hundreds of pieces. 'Who was in the boarding house?' He thought.

He felt a gush off wind hit his back. Damon spun around to see a woman in her early thirties. She had dark black hair cascading down her shoulders. Her icy blue eyes looking into Damon's. She was wearing a black jacket with a white tank top under it, with dark blue skinny jeans. She had on strappy black high heels, and long golden hoops hanging down from her ears.

Damon knew who she was. Mary Salvatore, his mother.

Her red lips turning into a smile.

"Mother?" he said tearing up.

(Thoughts! I know it was short, but if you like the story I will make longer chapters.)