A Mirror's Reflection

o.O.o

Prologue

The graduation party had been in full swing when my mum came to get me that night. She had to. I was in no shape to drive as I struggled to keep my balance and clambered into her red Volkswagen ungracefully. She met my flitting stare in the rear-view mirror, looking at me in that disapproving way only parents could, even when you were no longer a minor and I closed my eyes, rolling my fingers over my already aching temples.

It had started to drizzle, pitter-pattering on the car, and the window felt deliciously cool against my heated forehead. I'm not sure exactly what happened. I don't know, but one moment I was sitting in the back of our Volkswagen, and the next the synthetic textile material I was gripping at smoothed out into cool leather. The drunken haze I'd been feeling that evening had receded ever so slightly, and I bolted upright. The warm skin tone of my hand and the pink sweatshirt I hadn't been wearing before were the first clues something was wrong. The fact that my dyed red hair had turned a dark brown (a shade darker than my original color) was the second. I froze, fingers tightening so tightly around the seatbelt that my knuckles turned white. I was in a car, definitely not my mum's, and my eyes widened, headache forgotten.

I carefully peeked outside the window. The quickly moving-by line of trees and the rain pounding down around me gave away nothing, and as unsuspiciously as I took a glance at the man in the driver's seat and the woman in the passenger's seat. I glanced at their joined hands over the gear shift, and my breathing sped up. Had I been kidnapped? Had I been so drunk, I hadn't even noticed someone taking me from my mum's car? I mean, I did have several cups of spiked punch, but I was pretty sure I would have noticed so—

Where the fuck was I and how had I gotten there? My mind came up blank.

Blinking rapidly, because perhaps this was just a dream, I finally squeezed my eyes closed, counting to ten before opening them again and pinched my upper arm. The car, the sudden rain, the two people; they were the same and the spot on my arm ached angrily. At least, I suddenly realised why the two people looked so familiar, right as the bridge appeared in the distance. The dim light of the car gave it an ominous glow and somehow it was that moment that I remembered a very similar one, right before a white car rammed the guardrail and I watched Elena Gilbert's panicked face staring back at me when I caught my reflection in the rear-view mirror. Holy fuck.

Holy Flying Fuck!

"No!" I shrieked, flailing my arms around so violently the man hit the brakes. The car squealed and swerved on the road because fuck that bridge! I couldn't— we couldn't cross over that bridge. I'd been in a car accident once before, not a bad one, but an accident all the same. I had my driver's licence for two, perhaps three months, when I suddenly had to hit the brakes. I reacted prematurely, the woman behind me didn't. Her car slammed into mine, giving me a serious crick in the neck and practically murdering the bumper of my dad's car. It wasn't too bad, but I certainly had been frightened. I could only imagine the horror of a free-fall and almost drowning in the process. I couldn't, "Oh my God— Stop! Let me out!"

"Elena?"

The car rolled to a stop, my head slammed into the car window and I kicked out, panicked and short of breath. "No. NO. NOOO!" I gasped, for a moment struggling with the seatbelt before unlocking the door. I fell face first, crawled away until I felt the blades of grass from the roadside and heaved violently. The putrid smell of vodka (which I hadn't had that night) met my nose and I dry heaved for several seconds before burying my hands in my hair, rocking on the balls of my feet, face pressed against my knees. This couldn't be real. My nose was running, and my eyes were burning, and I felt like I was choking. The rain was thundering down on my back and water was seeping into my sneakers (well, actually not mine, nothing about this body was mine) and— oh God, I was truly starting to panic.