"you saved me"
∆ ∆ ∆
Life has never been simple for Kaitlyn Paige. From the very beginning of her youth she has known pain.
After the mysterious death of her mother, Kaitlyn's body had stopped aging, and she didn't know why.
She has been stuck in t...
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1865 Flashback
It had been 10 months since the Salvatore brothers were killed and Katherine was taken from me. To say I was doing badly would be an understatement.
My mother's state was deteriorating, and I had no one to talk to about it. My caretaker was the only person I saw all day, and she was as mean as a crone. Always telling me to act like a lady, and stop behaving like a child.
I missed the days where I would play with Katherine in the gardens, or spy on the Salvatore brothers with her and fawn over them.
I missed her so much, that sometimes I couldn't breathe.
I didn't know why she had been taken. No one would tell me why. They said that if I didn't already know, then there was no point in telling me.
What had she done? Had she broken the law? Had the bad man found her? Why did she leave me?
"Ms Paige, your mother wants to see you," a nurse came up to me, looking worried.
"Is my mother okay?" I asked frantically, following the nurse who was leading me to her room.
"I do not want to deceive you, Ms Paige. Which is why I tell you that I don't think your mother has much time left."
It felt as if someone had just stepped onto my throat.
"What?" I choked out, as the nurse opened the door.
"I would say whatever you have wanted to say to your mother right now," the nurse informed me before she shut the door and left me alone.
She was lying on her bed, the bed she had not left in several months. Her skin was pale, paler than usual, and there was a sheen of sweat on her face. Her cracked lips were parted and laboured breaths came from them, as she struggled for air.
"Mommy?" I whispered in fear, walking towards her.
It was scary to see your parent in this situation. She was supposed to be healthy. She was the one who was supposed to be taking care of me, not the other way around.
"My sweet Lyn," she rattled through her sore throat. "My beautiful angel."
I smiled a little at the nickname. She always called me her angel, a name which I found unfitting since in my opinion, I was anything but pure.
"Mother, why aren't you getting better?" I fretted, kneeling down next to the bed, and grasping her limp hand.
"Kaitlyn, I must tell you something. This sickness that I have, it's not what you think," my mother began, before breaking out into a coughing fit.
Startled, I got up and gave her a paper napkin to cough into. When she pulled it away from her mouth, it was stained with a deep red.
I swallowed down the bile which had risen up in my throat, and took the tissue from her hands, throwing it on the floor.
