Apr 17, 2013
trammelthewolf replied your post Really?
.Youd marry me, Cece?
Well I do get along best with you.
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trammelthewolf replied your post Really?
.Youd marry me, Cece?
Well I do get along best with you.
trammelthewolf replied to your post: How do you feel about Anthony?
…..Attached to me?
That was a long pause. And yes.
trammelthewolf replied to your post: If your family were hunting down the Trammels, and...
…. That just made me sound so helpless……
Not the intention... But they're raised to kill you, not Ivy.
Graveyard. Well keeping with the story LOL
It'd been two weeks since the funeral; two weeks to come to grips with the fact that he was gone and wasn't going to come back. Ivy was alone in every sense of the word. She'd been avoiding the house, the empty, quite chilling her to the bone. The ghost of his presence made it impossible to set foot in their home without Ivy collapsing on the floor, unable to breathe. His clothes were still strewn around his room, dirty dishes still in the sink, and his bed still messy from his sleeplessness nights. Standing outside the house, Ivy could still smell his scent, soaked into every fabric of the home, as if he was still there. But he wasn't. He was six feet under, just like the rest of her family.
Stumbling through the Mystic Cemetery, Ivy took a long drink from the bottle of whiskey she'd been nursing for the past hour. She'd taken to drinking heavily after his death; walking around in a perpetual, drunken stupor every waking hour since. Alcohol was the only way to dull the searing pain that constantly ripped through her chest. People around town had tried to help, tried to console her, but nothing worked. No one could undo the pain Ivy felt after losing him.
Finally, she arrived at the headstone she'd been looking for. The path had become a familiar one for her over the past two weeks. Many drunken evenings were spent here, mourning her loss of the one person she knew would always care for her, no matter how badly she fucked up. Dropping to her knees, Ivy took another drink and glared at the headstone. The burn from the whiskey still prominent in her throat, Ivy let out a agonizing scream and hurled the empty bottle at the stone.
“It should have been me!!!” Ivy pounded her fists into the dirt, causing the headstone to tilt slightly. A sob rocked her body and she leaned forward pressing her forehead to the cold ground. “Why? Why couldn't you have listened to me, just this once?!” Her body continued to shake violently as her slurred words tumbled from her mouth, tears falling freely. “I told you to stay away from Klaus, but you had to go open your big fucking mouth and get yourself killed. And for what?!” Again, Ivy slammed her fist into the ground. “You're dead because of me!! It wasn't supposed to be like this! I was supposed to be the one that went first...” Ivy felt the fight leave her body as the words passed her lips. “You weren't supposed to leave me. I can't do this without you...”
Pushing herself up, Ivy slid her body to lean against the stone. Uneven, shaky breaths continued to shake her body. Bringing her hand up, Ivy traced the letters on the cold stone, just as she had every time she'd visited his grave. Somehow, running her fingers over the letters made reminded her that this was real, not just one of her nightmares. Dropping her hand into her lap, Ivy closed her eyes, tears still falling. “I miss you, Anthony. So much...”