#bondamned

The dimly lit Mystic Grill is practically empty at this time of the day. Students from Mystic Falls High School are still stuck in crowded classrooms, most likely cursing their very existence as the lecturing teacher makes the effort (or not) to transmit valuable knowledge – some of it, at least. Yet here I am still grieving, still denying the loss of my dearest mentor and beloved grandmother without the pitiful glances of childhood friends and colleagues I barely know. A lost lamb that strayed away from the flock. My entire demeanor easily warns those nearby to stay as far away from me as they possibly can, a volatile and mourning witch is not to be trifled with. A smallest alteration or provocation is sufficient to set me off; I can’t imagine anything good coming out of it. The pain remains too present, how can one simply move on from this? Forgetting the events that transpired during that fateful night seems impossible; I don’t think I even wish to forget about it. I’m the sole culprit for her death. If not for me, she would still be here to boss me around in that wise tone of hers that never failed to summon an amenable smile from me. My reckless, thoughtless decisions brought me here, carrying the weight of sorrowful consequences. And I cannot blame anyone but myself. Not even the eldest Salvatore – Damon. As much as I desire to unload the full wrath I now hold entirely to myself on the self-proclaimed eternal stud, I know better. The responsibility of that night’s ending does not fall onto Damon’s shoulders. He is not my Grams killer, I am. And there is just no escape from that. At night, the recurrence of images from that darkened cave and Grams cold and unmoving body haunts me. I have yet to manage to sleep through the night without interruptions. And every morning, I find myself lying over a pool of sweat and tears with dark circles beneath my eyes. I have yet to tell Elena and Caroline about my return to Mystic Falls. Staying with my distant relatives sounded like a good idea at the time but clearly it didn’t work out for me nor did it help me heal from her loss in any way. My breakout from this hellish town turned out to be short and fruitless. My gaze wanders around the room for a couple of heartbeats before turning back to my glass with soda, fingers playing purposelessly with the straw immersed in the fluid. For hours now, the glass has been sitting on the counter, untouched. The emptiness within the heart contrasts with the turmoil of punishing thoughts and the courage to meet two of best friends fades, fleeing through the cracks existing in my soul. And then the bane of my existence enters the establishment with arrogance dripping from him with each step that transports him further into the Grill. The creature’s infamous smirk embellishes his face, his natural smugness being enough reason to make me want to strangle him. “Look who’s returned at last. Shouldn’t you be with the Scooby gang at school?” When he doesn’t succeed in plucking an equally sharp retort from me, a single eyebrow lifts while closing the distance between us before leaning against the counter with that pair of baby blues continuously locked on me. I continue to ignore his very existence. In silence. “The cat ate the little witch’s tongue? How adorable.” Again, silence. The vampire’s frustration grows by the second, becoming palpable to those with heightened senses. Like me. If I wasn’t drowning in bottomless agony, I would probably be snickering and teasing the eldest Salvatore by now with his instantaneous reaction. Yet my eyes remain focused on the glass sitting in front of me. The reckless vampire never knows when to retreat and recognize when enough is enough. His fingers close around my arm, a desperate measure to attain my attention, but the long locks of hair form curtains around my face, maintaining my expression hidden from prying eyes. And nothing happens, not at first. Then, almost imperceptibly, the ground beneath Damon’s feet quakes and the contents of my glass swishes back and forth within the container – a manifestation of raw, unruly magic. And for the first time today, my voice is heard. “If I were you, I would stay far away from me. I’m in no mood to engage in your verbal quarrels.” Before Damon has the opportunity to shoot back, an angry roar interrupts rather rudely our interaction. A monstrous Harley-Davidson motorcycle parades down the street with a tall, well-built stranger mounted on it. As if an unknown spell has been cast on me (the irony!), my attention settles solely on the unfamiliar face, definitely an outsider, as he pulls over right outside the Mystic Grill. Unable to look away, my heart hammers irregularly inside my chest and a spark of adrenaline swallows me whole as the handsome man walks inside without demonstrating a single care in the world. The emotions he so desperately keeps hidden under a mask of indifference call out to me like a siren’s song, the agony alone clenching my heart. The vampire beside me scoffs, probably threatened by the new presence. Damon’s insecurities never fail to make an appearance. Once again, another attempt to have my attention is made but without success and so he abuses of any ounce of respect I ever held for him by gripping my arm and hauling me behind him. “What do you think you’re doing, Damon? Let me go.” Damon’s bulging eyes find mine, the two of us engaging immediately in a silent confrontation while his fingers still hold me in place. The blond wanderer with beautiful blue eyes watches the exchange of words and physical interaction. “I think the lady told you to let her go.” The commanding tone in his voice seems to come so natural to him and a tiny smile adorns my lips for the first time in days as the hint of threat lingers in the air.

The smile she wore was nothing but a forgery. And she was alone. Too busy or too preoccupied with trivialities of life, nobody even noticed the signs. The small, insignificant changes. Yes, Bonnie Bennett was surrounded by the most atypical group of individuals, kind souls and loving hearts with a dash of buried darkness. Yet every single one of them failed monumentally to detect that first crack. The fissure in her soul that opened so loudly, she often wondered how anyone could have ever missed that occurrence. And without any form of control over it, this breach gave way to the opening of newer rifts that spread like lethal poison in healthy tissue. It all started in that dreadful cave. Overloaded with raw power, her nerves screamed at her for soothing silence. But she wouldn't have any of that. Instead of taking notice of her body's limits, she neglected herself to pursue the conclusion to her enchantment. Dancing rivers of darkest magic marred her flesh as her tone grew louder. And even when the air in her lungs grew thin, she refused to listen and hang her hero jacket. No. Bonnie Bennett was on a mission. And she would not stop until she managed to grip the soul of Elena's little brother and return it to his cold, lifeless body. To accomplish that, her path included a few turns into dangerous roads that brought her face to face with darkness itself. And despite of her light, there was a brewing darkness inside her that terrified her. But Elena needed her brother more, it gave her the motivation necessary to drench herself in acidic venom that would ultimately lead her to her doom. Death sank its claws right into her soul, ripping it from her body that had landed unceremoniously upon the uneven ground. That final, desperate gasp for air translated into the catalyst that accelerated the defeat against the ancient, feared rider of the Apocalypse. For months, she wandered between worlds without belonging to either. Jeremy, who had been touched by Death before his return to the living, concealed her passing as per her request. Until the lie itself became too heavy on his conscience. And once the proverbial beans had been spilled, it felt like a fraction of a second, a lapse of time before she too was returned into a world she had never been truly welcomed to. Courtesy of Tessa and her wildly known hunger for retribution, Bonnie's return was not without a price. Without being given a choice in the matter, she was made the anchor to the Other Side, the final destination for those of supernatural origins. The misery, the pain, the grief. She was bound to experience it in all but a moment as another preternatural soul crossed over into the afterlife by walking right through her. She was, after all, the door to the final fate. The constant collision with darkness, cold emotions, and memories of lives stained with loss, heartbreak and tortuous betrayal stripped her of the remnants of child-like innocence and robbed her of soulful warmth. Her sanity was slipping. She held onto it with sheer desperation wrapping itself around her. At times, unable to distinguish what belonged in the real world or the Other Side, Bonnie's heart would pick up its speed with beads of sweat aligned on her hairline as her breath grew shallow. Ashamed of her weakness, she hid the symptoms from everyone and without giving herself a chance to let her friends help and guide her through unstable, deceitful waters, Bonnie resorted to the most despicable coping mechanism. It started one night after she rushed out of the Salvatore manor after a supposedly relaxing evening with friends, watching films and eating all kinds of junk, unhealthy and sugary foods. Despite the guys protests, the girls unanimous vote to watch a romantic comedy remained victorious through the heated discussion between opposite genders. The guys threw the occasional mocking commentary and added the silent, judging eye-roll with the curling of the upper lip that feigned disgust whilst the girls ogled the male protagonist, let out a few giggles and even wiped away the few tears that leaked. Bonnie, however, was more preoccupied with the wraith standing at the corner of the living room. Excusing herself, she practically sprinted to the bathroom so she could get it over with and move on. What Bonnie did not count on was the fields of misery she had to walk through in order to help the poor soul find its final resting place. And once it was over, she was spiraling down and she saw no end to it. So she left. Trembling, she stared at her own reflection in the mirror. The brokenness she saw there frightened her, she was lost and the rebellion of darkness was conquering her. Her eyes refused to leave her reflection. Like a broken doll, she navigated through her bathroom and got inside the empty bathtub. She must have lied there for hours until, in a moment of hopeless despair, she revealed to herself what she had been hiding in her closed fist. Her fingers opened to expose a dangerous-looking razor. And as if in a trance, she brought the tiny blade down her wrist, tearing apart the thin skin until rivers of warm blood oozed from the self inflicted wound. Pain is real. Her chosen mantra. It was her most effective way of proving herself she was here and not back in the Other Side. Dead. Provably forgotten. From that night, it didn't take long for her to become addicted to the pain. The physical pain. That she could handle. Weeks later, Bonnie learned to wear long sleeved clothing to cover her healing wounds and evidence of past transgressions that couldn't deny she was no longer just experimenting. She also learned that alcohol was a great companion as it numbed her mind and pain receptors. The hardest part of her new routine was coming up with new excuses that would appease her friends as she turned them down again for some quality time. Still she would force herself to attend once or twice a month just so she didn't any suspicions. Bonnie was confident about her ruse until she caught Damon Salvatore staring at her as if she had grown two heads. . .

A single drop fell. And met its final fate, the disintegration of shape to envelop another shape as in what might suck away its properties to, eventually, acquire a wet texture. Another drop followed. And another. And another. The constant dripping soon became an eerie synchronization of sounds that completed an odd melody that beckoned that darkest of creatures. Bonnie stood proud in all the glory of her height. With her chin lifted and arms down, she watched in silence the small river of blood that left the once living body of yet another supernatural creature that had crossed the lines of balance Mother Nature implemented. From her samurai sword, not as deadly in appearance as it is in action, the latest droplets of that dark red liquid followed a similar path to the first ones. Indeed, chaos cannot be reversed. As the second law of thermodynamics states, entropy has a natural tendency to augment to a maximum point. The haughtiness rolling off of her as the pair of naturally green eyes read the scene before her showcased the status of her brokenness. Her lack of emotion. It was almost as if humanity had abandoned her, too. "She's gone. Her soul has left her," some said in hushed tones when they thought she could not hear them. She did. She always heard them. And every time, she chose to ignore words spoken with ugly sympathy. She wore nothing but dark clothing yet her armor remained unyielding. She dared not to strip from it for whatever reason. Her gaze, once full of life, was now dulled by the untold battles lost to the strings of her heart that had been broken. Some were even cut with knives. And she remembered. She remembered how that scene had come to be. The full moon was high in the sky, reflecting the remnants of sunlight that now bathed the opposite side of the world. It became a beacon for howlers of the night, the moon apprentices. Like a wolf crawling out of its hole, one with yet a human mask stalked its chosen victim. Bonnie did not hesitate to follow the seductive lullaby of peril. As if witched, she became the hunter of the hunter. Like every other living creature, there is always a predator for another predator. She took advantage of the lurking shadows to conceal her presence with unequal expertise. And then she waited. The trained soldier in her rolled into action. First step, ensure the rate of her heartbeat remained even without oscillations that may condemn my advantage. Then, opportunity presented itself to her as the yet inexperienced werewolf rushed into attack mode prematurely. Unsheathing her sword, she wielded it as if its blade was a mere extension of herself. As if she had been born to sway it. After that, the scene unfurled in a just a few heartbeats. The screams of the girl fleeing the scene echoed through the night as Bonnie delivered the fatal blow. The blow that welcomed Grim Reaper's visit to deliver the kiss of Death.

A couple of hours later, Bonnie's previous outburst was still very much present in her mind, twisting her thoughts and poisoning her reason. She could not comprehend the origin of the ire scorching her from within, the flames licking the foundation of her morals and values and igniting the undoing of everything good she still held on to. Mystic Falls was known for being a small town where everyone knew everyone. Bonnie vacated her home right after her untamed magic lashed out, shattering everything in sight. She wandered through town until she realized there wasn't a place in this forsaken hell, according to her, where she could be completely alone and at peace so she chose the one site she knew no soul would dare to bother her — the cemetery. Her mind, troubled with unwanted thoughts fused with flashes of buried memories, traveled into the dark where she encountered the comfort she yearned for and the power to force those memories away from her head. As the pair of forest green eyes captured her surroundings with the tombstones beginning to decrease in number, Bonnie's state of mind darkened as she stepped closer to the site where her dear grandmother had been laid to rest for eternity. No words slipped past her cold lips as Bonnie sat down beside Sheila's gravestone, leaning her upper body against the unforgiving, cool stone. She remained in absolute silence for a while before releasing a sonorous shaky breath. All her sacrifices, everything she did for Elena and the others and all that she had lost for the cause were in vain, Bonnie had never been part of the group composed by inexperienced, scared teenagers and two century old vampires, the Salvatore brothers. No, she had always been a mean to an end and nothing more. Before Bonnie could stop herself, she was already relieving the tragic afternoon that led her to this day, this situation with all the agony she carried in her heart. Rain had been pouring down on Mystic Falls unforgivingly on that day. Bonnie got an urgent call from Caroline begging her to meet everyone at the Salvatore manor. Elena was in danger, yet again. Clothed with a dark blue hoodie and equally dark jeans, Bonnie forgot about the vehicle she normally drove, her hybrid, parked on the driveway as she passed by it. Instead, she decided to walk her way to the centuries old manor. Her mood was as somber as the weather, and Bonnie was grateful for the incessant rain as it drenched her clothes, without fear of the cold that would attack her the next day, no doubt. Exhausted after several sleepless nights practicing her magic that consisted of powers she had no knowledge about and had no means to master them, especially after her mentor passed away, the dark circles beneath her eyes were the only physical evidence of the lack of rest over the past few weeks. Bonnie approached, at last, the grandiose mansion and quietly barged in. Droplets of rain cascaded from her dripping hair to the floor as she tiptoed to the living room, after removing her sneakers dirty with mud, where she could hear muffled voices speaking quietly.     “She’ll protect Elena, no matter what. Bonnie has proved time and time again and she’s a handy witch.”, Caroline declared with no remorse of her words’ choice before laughter emerged from the everyone present, even Matt was laughing at her expense.     “Such a fool that little witch is.”, Damon confessed with bitterness laced in his tone. Petrified, her lips parted to deliver a sign of Bonnie’s presence yet no sound escaped from her mouth for a while until she recovered from the initial shock, it felt like a bucket with ice cold water had just been emptied on top of her head. Rapidly, Bonnie strode into the room where the entire gang was gathered before she murmured warning words quietly that alerted for the coming storm.     “You’re right, Damon, I’ve been a fool but not anymore.” When she pressed her lips together, her jaw locked firmly as the ancient magic passed down through the generations of the Bennett line gathered beneath Bonnie’s skin, rising the temperature of her body. Bonnie concentrated her frivolous gaze on each one of her so called friends. She had no idea of what her next move was going to be, all Bonnie could think about was the pain of the betrayal she was feeling as it cut her heart into a million of pieces, relentlessly. Her soul was left bare and vulnerable, her fury and desire to get even became the things that held the control over her. And so she unleashed her wrath on them all.

Cornered inside her own mind with thoughts of absolute destruction swirling, a tremulous breath escaped through parted lips as her knees finally gave in, and Bonnie found herself tumbling down with no one else there to pick her up from certain darkness. During the fall, mint green eyes rolled to the back of her head as if an anonymous force was attempting to take over her yet she was well aware this was no unknown attack against her. It was all her. Along with her insanity over the many wrongs that had been committed against her. Both hands gripped her head from each side while grunts of pain escaped through parted lips, in both emotional and physical agony. While her knees throbbed with pain, Bonnie clenched her teeth, locking her jaw rigidly moments before the familiar tingling of an addictive poison rushed within blood vessels until she was fully saturated with it. The magic, dark and somber that very few dared to even give it much thought due to its undeniable magnetism and temptation, finally liberated her from constant grief and sorrow, being the creation of absolute chaos within her room the first evidence of the instability on her mind as a result of the darkness now flowing through her veins. A chuckle found its way past the barrier of velvety lips whilst she glanced around the chamber, amusement danced within tainted greens as she studied the fruit of thoughtless actions.     "Well, well. By the looks of it, I guess I'm no longer boring, right?" The extra swag in her step as she headed towards the exit of her home was indication of wicked intentions, also displayed on devious features.

A week, seven days, one hundred and sixty hours had passed since the "incident". That's what she had been calling it, at least. It had been a while since Bonnie had last broken down like that. The sadness, the constant reminder of what she had lost, was her eternal companion in the journey she now faced. Joy and ecstasy were sentiments that she was no longer acquainted with. Brushing her face in frustration with a stray hand, her upper lip curled viciously when glancing at the object of cruelty she held between the fingers of her free hand. A crescent moon pendant. He had given it to her, aeons ago, as a symbol of his undying love for her. The necklace had also been a gift with the intention of aiding her with not yet mastered powers; a witch's talisman, to help its owner harness the magic coursing their veins. The pad of her thumb began rubbing the talisman fondly before her hand closed around it ferociously and tossed said item across the room until it collided against the wall. And once again, it remained complete, without shattering, or bearing a single scratch. Hissing, long fingers dove into tendrils of ink black hair, pulling the hair forcefully once her hands closed into tight fists as her feet carried her back and forth within the small space of the bedroom. She wore an expression of desperation as insanity seeped into her veins once again.     "No. No. Not again."

With muscles too numb to move from the same spot Bonnie had been for hours, unwanted thoughts followed by memories she did not care to relive, and images capable of causing tremendous wreckage assaulted her mind, making her dizzy. She inwardly thanked the Heavens for being already on the ground for she was sure it wouldn't have taken too long for her to collapse and stumble. Gasping for air in an almost desperate fashion, trembling hands reached for her hoodie as nimble fingers grasped its material as if someone had been attempting to end her life. The over-sized hood concealed her vision and she found herself convulsing, not because she was under the threat of some unseen assailant but for the agony always found a new way to seep into her soul, leaving her vulnerable as raw emotions raked through her with a gut-wrenching scream following. And with Grams gone, and still too naive to comprehend these powers that she was told she possessed, she failed to harness the magic she had been born into. Not too far away, the clashing of thunder could be heard with dark clouds closing the clear night. And soon, the flickering light coming from the stars above faded away, no doubt result of untamed powers. With the arrival of the thunderstorm, the unforgiving rain tagged along, pouring down mercilessly and soaking her clothes until she was beyond salvation. And still she made no attempt to abandon that place. Melancholy embraced her broken heart like a vine that wouldn’t untangle and even though her powers seemed to act by their own accord, they were also the manifestation of her emotions. How could she have been so stupid? In all her seventeen years of life, there hadn’t been a single guy that would take notice of her the same way boys had always looked at Elena, or even Caroline. So, why would [ he ] ever notice her? She had been clearly too blind to perceive the truth. And now that she had been tossed to the side of the road as if she was mere trash, Bonnie could finally see it with all the clarity in the world. Seduced by the devil himself, he had chased her, made her feel cherished, loved and wanted. And before she knew what was actually happening to her, Bonnie was falling. Deep. And no one had warned her that once she fell, there was no going back. Instead of falling into loving arms, she fell on the cold, hard ground. Wincing, her breath faltered as she plunged her nails into the dirt whilst wishing she could have died a long time ago. Unfortunately, she was too much of a chicken to take her own life and survival instincts tended to kick in when everyone least expected them to. And it wasn't even for the lack of trying. Rapidly, Bonnie gave up on that idea. Whether she lived or died, it was not like anyone would miss her. With little strength she had left in her, a groan passed through parted lips before rolling her figure until she was on all fours. Hissing, Bonnie lifted her left hand from the soaked ground when a piece of broken glass lacerated the skin of her palm and a few tears of blood began to ooze from the wound. Staring, fascinated at the way the essence of life evacuated her body through a tiny cut.     "What a waste of blood", he would say. Grunting, she rose to her height with the support of the nearest tree whilst shaking her head a couple of times to vacate the mind from thoughts of him. Enough was enough, for today at least. Tomorrow was another day, right? Stumbling on her way out of the woods, her vision blurred with the sensation of vertigo clouding her head and instead of exiting the woods like she had planned, she found herself in the midst of the Mystic Falls' cemetery. What the... Incapable of explaining how the hell she had gotten there, it didn't take Bonnie too long to recognize her tombstone. Grams. It had been a while since she had last paid her grandmother a visit. Sinking onto the ground next to Grams headstone, a sob was quick to find its way past the prison of her mouth. Pleas left her lips.     "Pl-please. Gr-grams, oh, grams. I m-m-miss you. I'm t-tired. Of li-life. I wish i-it had been m-m-me. Yo-you didn't-t deser-ve to die. H-hurts. It hurts. Will I-I ev-ver find so-lace?"

Swiftly dragging the zipper of her over-sized hoodie up before tugging the hood over her head to conceal a no longer innocent face from the cold and relentless world, features marred with unseen scars that run deeper than the discernible ones as her expression darkened with an unmerciful truth she had been running from. Swallowing thickly whilst battling against the threat of tears cascading down her cheeks, a shaky breath escaped through slightly parted lips before trembling arms circled her waist in a weak attempt to hold herself together. Bonnie’s vision blurred when she succumbed to the sheer intensity of the emotions she was experiencing.     "I never loved you. I was just using you as my fuck toy." The cruelness of these words cut her deeper than she ever thought possible, especially because of the one who had uttered them. The one person she had been convinced to be her soul mate. Guess not. And she couldn't have been more wrong. His essence still lingered right beneath her skin, warming her spirit in a way that had never failed to bring a smile to her lips, only this time it wouldn't make her smile. And it could only break her heart further into a million pieces. Too troubled to be able to ratiocinate, her legs carried her towards the place where it all had started. The woods, more specifically the ruins of old Fells' Church. The scintillation of the stars being the only beacon of light that illuminated her path as the night embraced the small town of Mystic Falls, a cursed place for those who were aware of the supernatural and all the things that go bump in the night. Soon, the seemingly harmless branches of the trees grazed the skin of her face, leaving superficial cuts from where small droplets of blood oozed. Breathless, after a couple of minutes of sprinting through the woods, Bonnie rested her palm against the nearest tree whilst taking ragged breaths to recover from the stupidity of reckless actions. Her powers tingled beneath her skin as a reminder of how much she had lost control over them since that fateful night... When Bonnie finally lifted her chin and glanced around her surroundings, she rapidly recognized where she was. She was approaching the exact site where Emily, possessing her at the time, had declared she wouldn't be helping any vampires, before destroying the only object that could release Katherine from her imprisonment, afterwards. It was also the place where she had experienced, for the very first time, the ruthlessness Damon Salvatore was capable of when he had mercilessly plunged lethal incisors into her jugular with every intent of rewarding Emily with his form of punishment; by killing her. If not for Stefan, Bonnie would have been dead all this time. Maybe it would have been better than enduring all the pain that refused to let go of her. Many nights she dreamed about the events of that night, reliving them in different ways and somehow they all brought her to the same fate. With a shake of head to clear her mind from unwanted thoughts, she succumbed to her pain, now that she was alone, by letting herself fall onto the irregular ground unceremoniously with tears finding their way down her face at last.