Quoi de neuf? : JOYEUX NOEL A TOUS ET BONNE FÊTES DE FIN D'ANNÉE. _______-________ MERCI A MES NOMBREUX FANS AINSI QU'A MES PLUS PROCHES AMIS. __________-________________________________________________8888______ -Le vingt quatre décembre à 17:24.
"Turning around when he heard his name being called he saw a blonde woman standing there, his head falling to the side as he looked at her. “That would be me, miss. I'm sorry I don't recognize you.” He took her hand in his, placing a soft kiss on it. “Stefan Salvatore at your service. Why are you distraught?” He frowned, releasing her hand back down to her side. She's too beautiful to cry, he though to himself. Upon hearing that hearing her speak up again, he shook his head, confusion now seen on his face. “No ma'am, this is 1864. I think you might have me mistaken for someone else. You see I love another. Katherine Pierce. Perhaps you know her?”She threw her head back and closed her eyes. This wasn't happening, it simply can't be. Her family has fled town, leaving her behind, and the one person she is the closest to outside of her family, has no memory of her. More tears started to stream down her cheeks, her stomach turned, the feeling of being forgotten kicked in and bit her. She gazed back at Stefan, trying to gather internal thoughts of what to do; “Stefan I know you, we've met in the twenties, I was wearing a traditional white flapper dress, you in dashing suite we were separated for long time and we've gotten back together and you have held my hand and been there for me through so much, and I feel like I am loosing you and my heart can't take this. I've been through hell and I keep going, and I almost caved in, but you showed me a different route and gave me hope. You are my hope , Stefan, and I won't give up on you, but you've go to remember me, it's me, Ms. Mikaelson- We stayed up hours on the phone, the device vibrating in your pocket. Check your text messages, I've bet you didn't delete the ones you and I had. If this was 1864 then why are you and I wearing this style of clothing? Why is there cable care music playing these days? Theres plenty that might not make sense to you, but I can't loose you,” She took a few steps closer to him and cupped his face. “Please remember..”
“So you wanna kill yourself? Imagine this. You come home from school one day.You've had yet another horrible day. You're just ready to give up. So you go to your room, close the door, and take out that suicide note you've written and rewritten over and over and over You take out those razor blades, and cut for the very last time. You grab that bottle of pills and take them all. Laying down, holding the letter to your chest, you close your eyes for the very last time. A few hours later, your little brother knocks on your door to come tell you dinners ready. You don't answer, so he walks in. All he sees is you laying on your bed, so he thinks you're asleep. He tells your mom this. Your mom goes to your room to wake you up. She notices something is odd. She grabs the paper in your hand and reads it. Sobbing, she tries to wake you up. She's screaming your name. Your brother, so confused, runs to go tell Dad that “Mommy is crying and sissy won't wake up.” Your dad runs to your room. He looks at your mom, crying, holding the letter to her chest, sitting next to your lifeless body. It hits him, what's going on, and he screams. He screams and throws something at the wall. And then, falling to his knees, he starts to cry. Your mom crawls over to him, and they sit there, holding each other, crying. The next day at school, there's an announcement. The principal tells everyone about your suicide. It takes a few seconds for it to sink in, and once it does, everyone goessilent. Everyone blames themselves. Your teachers think they were too hard on you. Those mean popular girls, they think of all the things they've said to you. That boy that used to tease you and call you names, he can't help but hate himself for never telling you how beautiful you really are. Your ex boyfriend, the one that you told everything to, that broke up with you.. He can't handle it. He breaks down and starts crying, and runs out of the school. Your friends? They're sobbing too, wondering how they they could never see that anything was wrong, wishing they could have helped you before it was too late. And your best friend? She's in shock. She can't believe it. She knew what you were going through, but she never thought it would get that bad... Bad enough for you to end it. She can't cry, she can't feel anything. She stands up, walks out of the classroom, and just sinks to the floor. Shaking, -screaming, but no tears coming out. It's a few days later, at your funeral. The whole town came. Everyone knew you, that girl with the bright smile and bubbly personality. The one that was always there for them, the shoulder to cry on. Lots of people talk about all the good memories they had with you, there were a lot. Everyone's crying, your little brother still doesn't know you killed yourself, he's too young. Your parents just said you died. It hurts him, a lot. You were his big sister, you were supposed to always be there for him. Your best friend, she stays strong through the entire service, but as soon as they start lowering your casket into the ground, she just loses it. She cries and cries and doesn't stop for days. It's two years later. The whole school talks to a counselor/therapist at least once a week. Your teachers all quit their job. Those mean girls have eating disorders now. That boy that used to tease you cuts himself. Your ex boyfriend doesn't know how to love anymore and just sleeps around with girls. Your friends all go into depression. Your best friend? She tried to kill herself. She didn't succeed like you did, but she tried...your brother? He finally found out the truth about your death. He self harms, he cries at night, he does exactly what you did for years leading up to your suicide. Your parents? Their marriage fell apart. Your dad became a workaholic to distract himself from your death. Your mom got diagnosed with depression and just lays in bed all day. People care. You may not think so, but they do. Your choices don't just effect you. They effect everyone. Don't end your life, you have so much to live for. Things can't get better if you give up. I'm here for absolutely anyone that needs to talk, no matter who you are. Even if we've NEVER talked before, I'm here for you. ”
The waves fills his voids and the earth captures her heart; creatures looking with longing towards the worlds that would kill them, steal the breath from his lungs and wring the ocean from her veins, yearning and reaching without heeding caution. She spies him in the moonlight and he hears her voice floating in across the calm sea. He stands at the bow and listens to her melodies, and she is overcome by the need to take and claim and drag him down into the deep so she can consume him. For she is the sea, reaching to claim with greedy fingers, tempestuous and changing. She'd sell her hair, her voice, her life for the crush of his mouth on hers, to drown in the air from his lungs and to taste the earth and salt on his tongue. The sea has no care for the consequences, of the islands sunk and lives claimed to the drink - it only cares for the push and pull of its affections. And he would love her back, the wild fae thing she is on his ship, but loves another as much as any villanous man can; he loves the sea and the waves, the salt spray on his brow, unaware that she is the sea incarnate, salt water running through her veins. He loves what he cannot have so strongly and powefully that he cannot see the love returned to him. And so their love will doom them both, for the sea is a frightful thing when she is angered.