The Hunters: Phantom Chapter 2

Dear Diary,I AM alkali I can hardly d are to believe it, only if here I am.I woke with the strangest feeling. I didnt know where I was and just lay here smelling the clean cotton-and-fabric-softener scent of the sheets, trying to foresee out why everything steped so familiar.I wasnt in Lady Ulmas mansion. There, I had slept nestled in the smoothest satin and softest velvet, and the blood had smelled of incense. And I wasnt at the boardinghouse Mrs. Flowers washes the bedding there in some weird-smelling herbal mixture that decorous says is for protection and good dreams.And suddenly, I knew. I was home. TheGuardians did it They brought me home.Everything and nothing has changed. Its the same room I slept in from when I was a tiny baby my polished cherry-wood dresser and rockingchair the niggling stuffed black-and-white dog phlegm won at the winter carnival our junior year perched on a shelf my rolltop desk with its cubbyholes the rhetorical antique mirror above my dresser an d the Monet and Klimt posters from the museumexhibits Aunt Judith took me to in Washington, DC. Even my comb and brush are lined up neatly side by side on my dresser. Its all as it should be. I got out of bed and used a silver letter opener from the desk to pry up the enigmatical board in my closet floor, my old hiding clothe, and I found this diary, just where I hid it so many months ago. The last entry is the one I wrote ahead Fo follow upstairss Day rearward in November, before I died. Before I left home and neer came back. Until now.In that entry I critical our plan to steal back my other diary, the one Caroline took from me, the one that she was planning to read out loud at the Founders Day pageant, knowing it would ruin my spiritedness. The very next day, I drowned in Wickery Creek and arise again as a vampire. And then I died again and returned as a human, andtraveled to the deplorable Dimension, and had athousand adventures. And my old diary has been sitting right here where I left it under the closet floor, just waiting for me.The other Elena, the one that the Guardiansplanted in everyones memories, was here all these months, dismission to school and living anormal life. That Elena didnt write here. Im relieved, true(a)ly. How creepy would it be to see diary entries in my handwriting and not remember any of the things they recounted? Although that might have been helpful. I have no intellect what everyone else in Fells Church thinks has been happening in the months since Founders Day. The whole town of Fells Church has been given a good start. The kitsune destroyed this town out of sheer malicious mischief. Pitting children against their parents, reservation people destroy themselves and everyone they loved. notwithstanding now none of it ever happened.If the Guardians made good on their word,everyone else who died is now alive again shortsighted Vickie Bennett and Sue Carson, murdered byKatherine and Klaus and Tyler Smallwood back in the winter disagreeable Mr. Tanner those innocents that the kitsune killed or caused to be killed. Me. All back again, all starting over. And, move out for me and my closest friends Meredith, Bonnie, Matt, my darling Stefan, and Mrs. Flowers no one else knows that life hasnt gone on as usual ever since Founders Day.Weve all been given another chance. We did it. We saved everyone.Everyone except Damon. He saved us, in theend, but we couldnt save him. No matter how hard we tried or how desperately we pleaded, there was no way for the Guardians to bring him back. And vampires dont reincarnate. They dont go to Heaven, or Hell, or any pleasing of aft(prenominal)life. They just disappear.Elena stopped writing for a moment and took a deep breath. Her eyeball fil ed with tears, but she bent over the diary again. She had to tel the whole truth if there was going to be any channelize to keeping a diary at al . Damon died in my arms. It was agonizing towatch him slip off from me. besi des Ill never let Stefan know how I genuinely felt about his brother. It would be venomous and what good would it do now?I still cant believe hes gone. There was no one as alive as Damon no one who loved life more than he did. Now hell never know At that moment the door of Elenas bedroom suddenly flew open, and Elena, her heart in her throat, slammed the diary shut. But the intruder was only her younger sister, Margaret, dressed in pink flower-printed pajamas, her cornsilk hair standing straight up in the middle like a thrushs feathers. The five-year-old didnt decelerate until she was almost on top of Elena and then she launched herself at her through the air.She landed squarely on her older sister, knocking the breath out of her. Margarets cheeks were wet, her eyes shining, and her little hands clutched at Elena. Elena found herself holding on just as tightly, feeling the weight of her sister, inhaling the wise scent of baby shampoo and Play-Doh.I preoccupied you Margaret said, her voice on the verge of sobbing. Elena I missed you so muchWhat? Despite her effort to make her voice light, Elena could hear it shaking. She realized with a dork that she hadnt seen Margaret really seen her for more than eight months. But Margaret couldnt know that. You missed me so much since bedtime that you had to come travel rapidly to find me?Margaret drew slightly away from Elena and stared at her. Margarets five-year-old clear blue eyes had a look in them, an intensely knowing look, that sent a shiver drink Elenas spine.But Margaret didnt say a word. She simply tightened her grip on Elena, curling up and letting her head rest on Elenas shoulder. I had a bad dream. I dreamed you left me. You went away. The last word was a quiet wail.Oh, Margaret, Elena said, smooching her sisters warm solidity, it was only a dream. Im not going anywhere. She closed her eyes and held on to Margaret, praying her sister had truly only had a nightmare, and that she hadnt slipped thr ough the cracks of the Guardians spel .Al right, cookie, time to get a move on, said Elena after a few moments, gently tickling Margarets side. Are we going to have a fabulous breakfast together? Shal I make you pancakes?Margaret sat up then and gazed at Elena with wide blue eyes. Uncle Roberts making waffles, she said. He always makes waffles on Sunday mornings. Remember?Uncle Robert. Right. He and Aunt Judith had gotten married after Elena had died. Sure, he does, bunny, she said lightly. I just forgot it was Sunday for a minute.Now that Margaret had mentioned it, she could hear someone down in the kitchen. And smel something delicious cooking. She sniffed. Is that bacon?Margaret nodded. Race you to the kitchenElena express joyed and stretched. Give me a minute to wake al the way up. Il meet you down there. Ill get to talk to Aunt Judith again, she realized with a sudden burst of joy. Margaret bounced out of bed. At the door, she paused and looked back at her sister. You real y a re coming down, right? she asked hesitantly.I real y am, Elena said, and Margaret smiled and headed down the hal .Watching her, Elena was struck once more by what an amazing second chance third chance, real y shed been given. For a moment Elena just soaked in the essence of her dear, darling home, a place shed never thought shed live in again. She could hear Margarets light voice chattering away merrily downstairs, the deeper rumble of Robert answering her. She was so lucky, despite everything, to be back home at last. What could be more wonderful?Her eyes fil ed with tears and she closed them tightly. What a stupid thing to think. What could be more wonderful? If the crow on her windowsil had been Damon, if shed known that he was out there somewhere, ready to flash his faineant smile or even purposely aggravate her, now that would have been more wonderful.Elena opened her eyes and blinked hard several times, wil ing the tears away. She couldnt fal apart. Not now. Not when she w as about to see her family again. Now she would smile and laugh and hug her family. Later she would col apse, indulging the sharp ache inside her, and let herself sob. After al , she had al the time in the world to mourn Damon, because losing him would never, ever stop hurting.