K. (
noirmachinery) wrote2010-08-09 04:56 pm
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tvd fic: this story's missing a wishing well
this story's missing a wishing well
The only thing she has left to be sure of is herself. Vampire Diaries; Bonniecentric; mentions of others. PG. 620 words. spoilers through 1.22 'Founder's Day.'
reposted from the truly excellent POC-fest, with a few minor edits. title borrowed from The Birthday Massacre.
Bonnie Bennett lives in an ordered world, where the outcome of a situation is determined by simple rationality. It takes matches or a lighter to produce fire. You have to touch an object or otherwise attach it to yourself in order for it to move. The dead are buried underneath six feet of earth and roots and worms, and that is where they stay.
Sometimes, when she sees Stefan at school, she thinks that maybe the rest of the year has been just a nightmare and he's seventeen years old and maybe a little quiet but nothing, nothing, nothing about him makes him any different from the other guys, the same way she's just another girl. Stefan isn't a vampire and Elena isn't anybody's doppleganger and Bonnie has never called forth flames with her mind or ripped a pillow apart for any bizarre experiments.
(Why would anyone ever destroy a pillow, anyway? That's a little insane.)
(At least, that's what the old Bonnie would think.)
*
Then again, the old Bonnie also wasn't an angry person.
But now? Now she can feel it burning away inside of her, like an ugly scar that sears with pain the second she's reminded of too much - that Grams is dead, that she is special, that the world is filled with monsters under the bed and things that go bump in the night.
The thing is, at the center of all that anger, there's another emotion she can't quite name - it's not grief or confusion, though on other days those feel like they're about to swallow up her heart, too. It's the feeling, deep and sickening and alienating, that she can never truly be sure of anything again. Not of how the world works, or who another person - even somebody she might consider a close friend - truly is inside, whether they're good or bad or caught in between.
The only thing she has left to be sure of is herself.
The trouble is that Bonnie doesn't know if she's turning into someone she even likes, let alone has any faith in.
*
Bonnie used to think nothing would ever be able to tear her from Elena, but now she finds herself drifting, seeing an endless, ragged chasm between them and feeling powerless to try and cross a bridge back to her best friend.
She wonders if she's making this harder than it needs to be, perpetuating more pain and heartache where it doesn't have to exist. But whenever she looks at Elena, all she can think is a rush of he's a vampire they're both vampires what are you doing why aren't you running why would you risk being around either of them what is wrong with you--
For the first time in her life, she doesn't understand her best friend at all. She tries to - really, she tries.
She just can't.
*
Bonnie wonders about what went through Emily's head when she chose to protect Katherine and Pearl, and what made her change her mind.
(She thinks that no matter what the reason, she'd understand. Call her a coward, unreasonable, blinded by hate, whatever - any prey goes to all the lengths it has to when fighting a predator.)
When Bonnie looks Stefan in the eyes and swears to end Damon if he hurts anyone, she means every word she says, and she knows he realizes that.
Bonnie lived in an ordered world, once upon a time. But times change, and she's finished being scared. She takes the rage in her heart and manipulates it, shapes it into something better, something brighter and harder.
She knows it's what will let her snap her fingers and allow the Salvatore mansion to blaze, if (when) it comes to that.
The only thing she has left to be sure of is herself. Vampire Diaries; Bonniecentric; mentions of others. PG. 620 words. spoilers through 1.22 'Founder's Day.'
reposted from the truly excellent POC-fest, with a few minor edits. title borrowed from The Birthday Massacre.
Bonnie Bennett lives in an ordered world, where the outcome of a situation is determined by simple rationality. It takes matches or a lighter to produce fire. You have to touch an object or otherwise attach it to yourself in order for it to move. The dead are buried underneath six feet of earth and roots and worms, and that is where they stay.
Sometimes, when she sees Stefan at school, she thinks that maybe the rest of the year has been just a nightmare and he's seventeen years old and maybe a little quiet but nothing, nothing, nothing about him makes him any different from the other guys, the same way she's just another girl. Stefan isn't a vampire and Elena isn't anybody's doppleganger and Bonnie has never called forth flames with her mind or ripped a pillow apart for any bizarre experiments.
(Why would anyone ever destroy a pillow, anyway? That's a little insane.)
(At least, that's what the old Bonnie would think.)
*
Then again, the old Bonnie also wasn't an angry person.
But now? Now she can feel it burning away inside of her, like an ugly scar that sears with pain the second she's reminded of too much - that Grams is dead, that she is special, that the world is filled with monsters under the bed and things that go bump in the night.
The thing is, at the center of all that anger, there's another emotion she can't quite name - it's not grief or confusion, though on other days those feel like they're about to swallow up her heart, too. It's the feeling, deep and sickening and alienating, that she can never truly be sure of anything again. Not of how the world works, or who another person - even somebody she might consider a close friend - truly is inside, whether they're good or bad or caught in between.
The only thing she has left to be sure of is herself.
The trouble is that Bonnie doesn't know if she's turning into someone she even likes, let alone has any faith in.
*
Bonnie used to think nothing would ever be able to tear her from Elena, but now she finds herself drifting, seeing an endless, ragged chasm between them and feeling powerless to try and cross a bridge back to her best friend.
She wonders if she's making this harder than it needs to be, perpetuating more pain and heartache where it doesn't have to exist. But whenever she looks at Elena, all she can think is a rush of he's a vampire they're both vampires what are you doing why aren't you running why would you risk being around either of them what is wrong with you--
For the first time in her life, she doesn't understand her best friend at all. She tries to - really, she tries.
She just can't.
*
Bonnie wonders about what went through Emily's head when she chose to protect Katherine and Pearl, and what made her change her mind.
(She thinks that no matter what the reason, she'd understand. Call her a coward, unreasonable, blinded by hate, whatever - any prey goes to all the lengths it has to when fighting a predator.)
When Bonnie looks Stefan in the eyes and swears to end Damon if he hurts anyone, she means every word she says, and she knows he realizes that.
Bonnie lived in an ordered world, once upon a time. But times change, and she's finished being scared. She takes the rage in her heart and manipulates it, shapes it into something better, something brighter and harder.
She knows it's what will let her snap her fingers and allow the Salvatore mansion to blaze, if (when) it comes to that.