Six months had passed since Sheila Bennett crossed over to the other side. Six months of heart shattering grief. Unparalleled loneliness. Constant tears.
The moon hung low, pulled down under the weight of my world caving in. Now that Grams was gone, I was truly and utterly alone.
Sure, Caroline checked in on me often, but she was dealing with her own life altering tragedy. Then there was Elena and the Salvatore brothers, but they were only counting down to the days till it seemed appropriate for me to be "over" losing the only mother I ever knew and get back to risking my life, love and happiness for theirs.
The rest of my childhood friends had long since abandoned me. No one would say it, but everyone who loved Bonnie Bennett usually ended up dead. Or undead. Both were equally terrifying.
I remembered my last few moments with Grams. Reliving her words, the look on her face, knowing the end was coming. The visions shredded my heart all over again and tears leaked from my eyes, running over the bridge of my nose as I laid on my side watching the moon through my window.
My cell phone buzzed against the night stand beside me and I groaned internally. Could they let me grieve in peace? I rolled my eyes and snatched the phone. An unknown number scrolled across the screen. I shrugged to myself and tossed it back to the nightstand. Probably just a wrong number, I thought to myself.
The phone buzzed again, this time, shorter. A text. I grabbed it again and sat up:
"Bon, it's Di. Come to the door."
I couldn't believe my eyes. Diana Bennett, my half-sister - whom I hadn't seen in over 7 years - was standing on my front porch. I leapt from the bed and bolted downstairs. My sister was here!
I yanked the door open with so much force I thought it might fly off the hinges. And there she stood. An inch shorter, a shade darker with glittering silver eyes peaking through her silky straight black hair. "Di!" I cried, running into her open arms.
"Bon, I..." she whispered, "I came as soon as I heard about Grams...," her voice broke. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you," she wailed.
"Shh, it's okay," I squeezed her. "You're here now. That's all that matters." I gave her a sad smile as we pulled away from each other. I peaked around her, looking for her luggage, but all she had was a small black backpack hanging off her narrow shoulders. "Where's all your stuff?" I asked, wrinkling my eyebrows.
She cleared her throat and tugged on the straps of her backpack nervously. "I don't exactly have any 'stuff,'" she said sheepishly. "Kinda left in a hurry."
"From?" I asked, studying her. She was running, I just didn't know from what.
"New Orleans, actually," she gave a shy smile. She opened her mouth to say more, but her stomach growled like a roaring tiger and we both laughed.
"Come on, let's get you something to eat," I smiled, linking my arm in hers and pulling her into the house.
My sister had come. She may have been fleeing something, but she had come here, to me. My days of being alone were over. No matter what, I knew nothing would ever separate from this moment forward.