After we arrived to Mystic Falls, thing took their turn for the worse. Klaus learned how to make successful hybrids, which was by having them drink Elena's blood while they were in transition. His first successful hybrid was Tyler Lockwood, Caroline's new boyfriend. After Tyler's transition, Klaus made Stefan turn off his humanity. It was because he saw how much Stefan cared for Elena, even when he was compelled to drink from her. Now, Stefan was the humanity-less ripper that was alive in the twenties. Klaus left soon after, leaving Rebekah behind.

   During the bonfire at the school, which apparently happened every year during the first day of school, the Save Elena Squad found out that Tyler was sired to Klaus, which meant that he felt completely loyal to the hybrid. Elena almost died because a girl that was supposed to be dead--Matt Donovan's sister--came back by means of a witch from the Other Side. It was all a jumble of things, both necessary and unnecessary events.

   I walked down the stairs of the Salvatore Boarding House, a book in hand and my lips pursed as I moved deep in thought. A scream echoed from the living room, causing me to stop reading and run. Damon was tied up with chain on a chair, his ring on the floor and the curtains wide open with the sun shining brightly on him.

   "A little help?" he yelled through the pain.

   I hurried to the window and closed the curtains, then broke the chains that tied him down. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked. "Was it Stefan?"

   "Apparently not," he groaned, standing. He stretched, his back cracking, and marched to where the ring was. "He said it wasn't him, and I believe him."

   "Then who else could have possibly tried to just kill you?" I asked, crossing my arms. "I'm sure there are plenty of others that want to kill you, but I think they would have a bit more fun with it."

   Damon stayed quiet for a few seconds, his hand on his waist as he glanced around while deep in thought. "Mason Lockwood," he suddenly said.

   "He's dead," I reasoned, rolling my eyes. "Or what, ghosts are now haunting the living?"

   "Little Gilbert is seeing his dead vampire girlfriend," he divulged, looking at me. "And this is the exact same way I tortured Mason, remember? I'm pretty sure this was him."

   I laughed and shook my head, laying my book on the table. "Really? You think it's him?" I asked, a smile on my lips. "O' Mason Lockwood, give us a sign if you are here!" I spun around as I spoke, laughing. I stopped and looked back at Damon, crossing my arms with amusement still etched on my face.

   Suddenly, the book that I had laid on the table flew across the room. It landed with a thud right by the fireplace, sprawled open. My smile began to fade as I went to pick up the book. The leather cover felt unnaturally cold against my hand. I turned to Damon, who looked both worried and angry.

   "We should probably go find Bonnie," I said, watching my surroundings.

   We hurried to the car all while, I kept the book close to me. I tapped my fingers against the leather cover, creating a rhythm of four taps every second. It was a random beat, but it calmed the itching nerves to open it and continue to read.

   "What's with the book?" Damon asked as we stopped at a red light. "You've been carrying it around since you laid your hands on it. It's kind of annoying, since I don't know what it is because you're acting mysterious about it. So, what's it about?"

   Instead of going back to my house, I had decided to stay at the boarding house. If I were to be honest why, it was because I was afraid that Klaus would come back and I'd have to go with him again. If I were to be completely honest, it was because I wanted to feel closer to the Salvatore brothers, to my old life.

   I sighed, "I want to know who I am, Damon. This book's about my family; I found it at the archives in the library."

   "I can tell you about you: you're Clara Forbes," he chuckled, as if I didn't know who I was. "We were supposed to live happily ever after, but you died at the ripe age of nineteen."

   I scoffed and rolled my eyes, lifting my gaze from the book and directing it to him. "Did you mourn?" I quietly asked. "Or did you forget about me immediately?"

   Damon laughed, but it wasn't a hearty laugh. It was an unemotional laugh, one that carried more pain than any other emotion. "I wanted to forget," he said, "but I mourned. You know, it was Stefan and I that found you that morning. I went to your house with a bouquet of tulips and dahlias in order to apologise--you would have loved the flowers, by the way. It was Dorcas who answered the door, and she had this terrified expression on her face. She said that you had been missing since before dawn, so your father assembled a search party with about twenty men and eight bloodhounds. Stefan and I searched through the woods, finding small pieces of cloth trapped on branches. And then we found you: you looked so peaceful that I would have thought you were sleeping if it weren't for the blood that decorated every inch of your body." He licked the corner of his lip, a faint smile appearing. "You want to know what I did next? Oh, it's hilarious. You're going to laugh. I clutched your dead body and cried out to the Heavens as if I were part of some romance film. Stefan stood by my side all while I cried, asking what or who could have done it. Then your father arrived, he saw you in my arms, and began to blame me. According to him you had sneaked out to meet me."

   "I did sneak out to meet you," I confessed with a short sigh. "Katherine had compelled Dorcas to make it seem as if it were you wanting to meet me. You know, I was going to apologise for being a fool." I laughed softly, shaking my head at the distant memory. "I'm sorry for acting like a fool that night, Damon."

   "Clara," he laughed, "that was over 160 years ago." He looked at me, gave me a genuine smile, and winked. "But, you're forgiven. And, I should also apologise, so: Clara, I'm sorry for paying more attention to Katherine than to my own fiancée. It was a horrible thing to do and I've blamed myself for your death since then. Am I forgiven?" He sounded sarcastic, but I could tell the truth coming from his words; he did want to be forgiven.

   I smiled and licked my bottom lip. "I'll think about it," I responded. He let out a breathy laugh and kept the smile. I couldn't help but stare and admire every feature on his face: his eyes, his nose, his lips. His eyes were a pale blue that reminded you of the cold, of February snow and glaciers on a stormy ocean. His nose was slightly crooked, but it fit him well. And then his lips, small and pink and utterly kissable. The fact that I wanted to pull him to me and kiss him until I was out of breath disgusted and surprised me.

   Damon stopped the car by Bonnie and Caroline, who were hanging lanterns on trees. "Greetings, Blondie. Witchy," he greeted with a straight face. "I think you got your voodoo wires all crossed when you got rid of Vicky Donovan."

   "What do you mean, why?" Bonnie asked, clearly confused. 

   "Because I'm pretty sure I just got spit-roasted by Mason Lockwood's ghost," he divulged, making a face of disgust.

   "What?" Bonnie sounded as if she believed him, as if she were almost expecting something like this to happen.

   "And why would you think that?" Caroline asked. 

   "He was chained to a chair and had a hot poker in his chest," I said for him, smiling.

   "Let's just say I'm having déjà vu," Damon finished, starring at Bonnie.

   Caroline turned to the witch. "I thought you said that ghosts couldn't physically interact with people."

   "They can't," Bonnie assured, shaking her head.

   "Yeah, well, I don't have time for a vengeful Lockwood," Damon sighed. "When I kill someone, they're supposed to stay dead. Whatever you screwed up, fix it." He drove away, then, the wheels screeching against the pavement.

   Damon drove to The Grill, where I could smell and hear people laughing. I swallowed hard as I walked in with him, biting my lower lip in order to control myself and not rip someone's jugular from their neck. I stopped in the middle of the restaurant, basically staring into the veins and arteries of some waitress.

   "Hey." A soft hand on my shoulder caused me to look away. Damon stood in front of me, brows furrowed and lips spread into a tight smile. "It will be okay. If you do anything, I will stop you."

   "That's assuring," I mumbled, rolling my eyes.

   He winked and turned, directing himself towards Alaric, who was heading to the bar. I turned and took a seat on the table, preferring to order something and take my mind out of the many people with pumping blood that surrounded me. The waitress came by with a large plate of fries, a delicious triple burger with bacon, and a bubbling cup of brown soda.

   "You know, there's a lot of fat in that," someone said as they took a seat. In front of me, Stefan sat back on his chair with a small smirk on his face. "I mean, you're already dead, but I'm pretty sure fat still does something to the vampire digestive system."

   "Bite me," I mumbled, rolling my eyes and taking a big bite of the burger.

   "Ooh, tempting," he chuckled, the smirk widening only a bit. He grabbed a fry from the plate, pushing to his mouth with the same smirk. "You know, you should join me in those whole inhumanity thing. It's fun not having any emotions."

   "Ooh, tempting," I mimicked. "But, no thanks. I prefer keeping my emotions for now."

   "Oh, come on, Clara!" He leaned over the table, smiling. "Join me the fun team, the wild side, the one where there are no rules. I mean, if you do, you wouldn't have to deal with the pain of having to live with the man that loves you back and also loves another."

   "You know, I prefer the you with emotions," I said, forcing a small smile. "He's much more understanding."

   "Ugh, understanding," he chuckled. "Was I really that boring?"

   "What is it that you want, Stefan?" I asked, laying the burger back on the plate. "Do you want to know where your girlfriend is? Sorry, I haven't been paying attention to her lately."

   "Jealous?" he chuckled.

   "Annoyed," I corrected him.

   The smile that was on his lips faltered for a second, but it was immediately covered by the same. "Fun fact: you said the exact same thing to me while we were dancing the night before you died."

   "Déjà vu," I breathed, annoyed.

   "You know, it would have been better to be a vampire then," he confessed. "Ugh, the emotions that I had: I mourned, I cried, I wrote in my diary—it was a real pain in the ass, Clara."

   "Well, sorry for dying," I smiled. "It wasn't really my intention, y'know. Didn't really want to become a monster."

  "See, if you just turn of your humanity, you wouldn't be feeling like this," Stefan pointed out. He stood up and took a handful of fries. "When you turn off your humanity, how about you and I go back to Chicago for some fun? You know, wreck havoc."

  "I'm gonna have to deny," I said, standing as well. My chest was almost pressing against his as I stared into his eyes. It was as if we were having our own silent battle. "Sorry."

   He smiled, "My offer stands, Clara." He winked and walked away. I watched his back, noticing how there was a difference in the way he walked. When he still had his humanity, he walked carefully, as if a mistreated step would cause chaos. Now, he walked without care, with confidence radiating off of him like poison.

   I internally groaned and made my way to Damon and Alaric at the bar. "I hate your brother," I groaned, taking the glass of whiskey from Damon.

   "Go ahead," he sarcastically said, giving me a smile. "Take my drink. It's not like I'm having a bad day already."

   "One of you will pay for this, right?" A new voice joined. "Cheers."

   I turned my head to see Mason Lockwood sitting on the other seat by Damon, a shot of whiskey in his hands. There was nothing that had changed, especially his looks. As I recalled, he still looked as attractive as he did before, especially the little smile he had on his lips.

   "Let's get to it: I killed you, you want revenge," Damon sighed. "Get in line."

   "Actually, I want an apology," Mason said. He looked down at me, and winked. "Maybe something more."

   Alaric laughed, "Good luck with that."

   "Don't you have a family to haunt?" Damon asked. "You know, your nephew has turned into a mindless hybrid minion."

   "That's why I'm here," Mason said. "To help Tyler."

   "Well, sorry to break it to you, buddy, but Tyler can't be helped. At least not while Klaus is alive. Which is, like, always."

   "Not necessarily," Mason said. "Not if you find a weapon that could kill him."

   "There is no weapon that..." Damon trailed off and looked directly at the ghost. "What do you know?"

   "I know you need to apologize," Mason smiled. 

   "You got to be kidding me," I breathed, rolling my eyes. 

   "Are you incapable of remorse?" Alaric suddenly snapped, staring at Damon. "Just apologise!"

   Damon sighed. "You're right, I didn't have to kill you. I do a lot of things I don't have to do."

   Mason laughed, "That's good enough." He got up from his seat and looked directly at Damon. "Meet me at the old Lockwood cellar. Bring a shovel. Come alone."

   "What, you're going to bury me alive?"

   "Don't tempt me," Mason answered before walking away. I watched his retrieving back, both surprised and worried that ghosts were having physical contact with the living. If ghosts were coming back, that meant I'd have to keep my eye out for some of those I've killed.

   "You're not thinking of going, right?" Alaric asked Damon.

   "He knows how to kill Klaus," Damon responded, turning back to the table. "Of course I'm going. Clara, you coming?" 

   "Uh, no," I said. "I have some stuff to do. Plus, he said to go alone."

   "Suit yourself," he shrugged and walked away.

   As soon as he walked out the door, I turned to Alaric. "I know you don't like me, and I understand that, but I need to ask you a few things," I said to him.

   He sighed, and nodded. "Fine, go ahead."

   "Isobel's research was about folklores and legends, right?" I began. "That was how she found out about Katherine and the Originals, right? Uh, I know this is too much to ask, but I need you to get information about me."

   "About you?"

   "About me," I confirmed. "Allegedly, I'm a doppelgänger as well. I don't want to believe it, but... I'm going to give you a list of names, and maybe you've read them before in some of her research." I wrote down the names I had read on the drawings when I was with Elijah in 1887:

Ileana Drăculea - Wallachia, Hungary 1438
Anastasia Romanovna - Saint Petersburg, Russia 1563
Marine Anotinette Le Normant d'Étioles - Paris, France 1712
Gwenhwyvar - Wales, probably, B.C?

   I handed him the piece of paper and took a deep breath, nodding. "Those are the names of my alleged doppelgängers. Since I came back from Chicago I've been searching, but so far I've found nothing about them. All I've found was that the Forbes family came from Scotland in the early 1800's, Celtic druids apparently."

   "And you want me to look through Isobel's research to see if any of these names appear?" Alaric asked, scanning over the paper with furrowed brows. 

   "You're the history buff," I chuckled. "I'm sure you'd love to learn about another doppelgänger that's not Elena or Katherine. And, I'd greatly appreciate it."

   After a few second of visible hesitation, he nodded. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll do it."

   "Thank you," I smiled, standing. I was about to leave, but stopped myself. "And, Alaric... Please, don't say anything about this to Damon or any of the Save Elena Squad, yeah?"

   "Why?"

   "I don't want them to know," I said, glancing down. "Not yet, at least." I nodded once again, and walked out of the restaurant. When the sun suddenly hit my face, I took a deep breath and allowed the bits of sunshine to touch my skin. It was calm, it was almost as if there was nothing to worry about.

   To take my minds off things, I decided to walk around the town. It was the Night of Illuminations, where everyone would turn off the lights and turn on paper lanterns instead to celebrate the anniversary of the beautiful town. It was pathetic, but it was still fun and beautiful. The lights hanging on the trees that reminded me of stars in a dark night. And at night they looked even more beautiful.

   It was all ruined when a very dead Tobias Fell appeared hanging on a tree. Everyone screamed, the red and blue lights of the police cruisers appeared, and every light was turned on. I sighed and turned away, not wanting to deal with the problems of the ghosts or the Save Elena Squad, so I walked back to the boarding house.

   "Clara Forbes..." a soft voice rang in the darkness. I stopped and turned, seeing myself standing before me. Instead of the red dress and yellow cardigan, I was wearing a long daffodil coloured Victorian dress. My hair was tied up neatly with a few ringlets framing my face, and there was a hint of smirk on my pink coloured lips. When I realized that it wasn't me standing there, I took a step back.

   "You are..." I took a deep breath. "You're me."

   "My name is Marine Antoinette," she introduced herself with the same smirk. "You've heard of me. Well, no, not heard. You've read my name on a drawing."

   "So, you're a doppelgänger," I sighed. "Great. What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

   A frown replaced the smirk on her lips. "The Other Side is quite lonely, if I were honest," she said. "We're all alone there. And you will be too."

   "What?" I furrowed my brows and stared at her. "What do you mean me too? Are you saying I'm going to die."

   "We all die in the end, Clara," she said, a small smile appearing. "Even those of us who turn into the undead, or whatever you call yourselves now."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Each one of us dies, over and over again, a repetition of love, and curses, and supernatural beings. You're the first one to live the longest, Clara," she divulged. "We share parts of a great soul. We are tapestries woven of strands of being, which are woven then unravelled and woven again in similar but not identical patterns. You are just that. A pattern. A repeating pattern of existence. That is what we are, Clara."

   "Then who am I?" I quietly asked, pushing back tears. 

   "You're Clara Forbes," she declared with a small smile. "You were the youngest to die and the longest to live."

   "Who am I?" I repeated, allowing the tears to flow free. "Am I Clara or am I just a carbon copy of some dead girl?"

   Marine frowned. "You are a doppelgänger, but you are also Clara. How you act, how you feel, how you think, who speak to, who you fall in love with, that is all on you. The only similar thing between us are our looks, no more. We're not reincarnations, but mere shadows of each other."

   "But, why?" I yelled, shaking my head. "Why? Why are we... Why do we... I can't even think straight!" I ran my hand through my hair in frustration as my breathing accelerated. 

   "Why are we doppelgänger?" she finished for me. "The same reason Elena Gilbert is Katerina Petrova's: nature looking for a balance." She smiled and took a deep breath, smile disappearing as fast as it came.

   When I blinked once again, Marine was no longer standing in front of me. I walked to the spot where she was, shaking my head and running my hands through my hair in a frantic trance. "No! No, no, no, no! No!" The tears were already spilling from my eyes, causing my vision to become a tad blurry. 

   I felt furious, empty. I felt as if everything in the world was trying to go against me. Marine was to tell me the reason why I was the carbon copy of a dead girl, but she disappeared. I could no longer breathe with the many emotions that ran through my system. It was then where I felt that I had to turn everything off: my humanity. I wanted to turn it off and feel nothing, but I couldn't. I didn't want to turn it off, because that would be cheating on my feelings with a false illusion of assurance. But...

   Maybe turning off my emotions would be a blessing for some time.

   I decided to pull out my phone and call the person I needed assurance from the most. He answered on the second ring, "Clara?"

   "Damon..." I breathed, my voice cracking. 

   "Clara?" he repeated. "Clara, is everything okay?" Hearing my name sliding from his tongue reminded me of honey, sweet and bitter. 

   "I... Where are you?" I clutched the skirt of my dress and stopped myself from continuing to cry.

   "Going home, why? Did something happen? You okay?"

   "I need you," I finally cried. "Damon, I need you." I didn't know whether it was the realization that I was a copy of someone or whether it was the heightened feelings of the situation, but whatever it was caused me to break down.

   I hurried back to the boarding house and entered with sobs racking from my chest. Damon stood in the living room, a glass of bourbon in his hand as he stared at me curiously. "What happened?" he asked as I came closer. "Clara, are you-"

   I kissed him. I pulled myself to him and pressed my lips to his, and I kissed him. His lips were warm and tasted of bourbon. His arms wrapped around my waist as I wrapped my around his neck, pulling him down slightly. I had expected fireworks, tingles, and desire, but in the end there was so much more than that. As I kissed him, I felt volcanoes erupting inside me, landslides, collisions, hurricane-like winds. I felt stars explode and worlds be born. The worries that I had evaporated like a summer shower on hot pavement. I had no desire for the kiss to end.

   Damon pulled away, staring down at me with surprised and glazed eyes. "What..."

   "I can't," I quietly told him, shaking my head. "I no longer can contain how I feel, Damon. I've tried so hard to stop myself from loving you, but I can't. Not anymore. And,maybe it's because being with you gives me no worries and I can forget about everything, or maybe it's these shitty heightened emotions, but I can no longer pretend that I don't love you..."

   Damon shut me up with a kiss. His hand travelled to the back of my head, where he pulled me closer to him and allowed me to savour his lips like I did once before. It was sweet, it was ferocious. It was like being caught in a storm and suddenly finding shelter. It was the kind of kiss that inspired the stars to climb into the sky and light up the world. 

   I let out everything because of everything that occurred ever since I returned to Mystic Falls. Almost dying in a fire, wanting to sacrifice myself to Klaus so that Elena's aunt did not have to, giving my freedom to Klaus so that I could save Damon, wanting to save Stefan more than once, and finding out—once again, may I recall—that I was a doppelgänger. All of that made me want to give up, turn off my humanity. But, I didn't want to. Instead, I decided to finally let out everything instead of holding it in like I had done. My love for Damon was one of those, the biggest one. I needed to get it out, to shout it to the world. I had confessed to him that I still loved him a few times, and I said would give up on him, but I couldn't. And I never did. So, why not give it another chance?