Post by Cami O'Connell on Nov 8, 2014 15:15:13 GMT -6
She flung the blankets off of herself and sprung out of the bed. After hours of tossing and turning, Cami gave up on the idea of sleep. The questions from her college advisor, Vincent, kept echoing in her mind and refused to allow her to rest.
“We’re all going to die”
“Is that what you’re afraid of?”
“Who says I’m afraid of anything?”
“How can you expect your clients to open up to you when you won’t open up to yourself?”
“Want to talk about my dead brother? Dead uncle?
“What about the living…friends…boyfriends?”
“Some people don’t want to be saved.”
The whole conversation replayed over and over on repeat since she tried to fall asleep and the answers remained elusive. What was driving her? Who was she trying to save? Why? Why was she so determined to find the good in people? She had certainly seen enough evil, real undeniable evil, in the last several months to prove her theory wrong. Yet, here she was struggling with that very concept. It seemed each time an answer danced on the periphery of her mind, it vanished like a vapor; slipping from her grasp and bringing her back to the beginning.
She twisted the knob on the French doors leading out to her balcony and stepped out into the crisp fall night. With the wind whipping her blonde hair around her face and the hem of her gown around her calves, she held her face up to the briskness. The cold tingled her skin and she welcomed the numbness as it seeped into her body but never made its way to her mind. Nothing shut the questions out.
She kept circling back around to her twin brother, Sean. She failed him. She should have been able to reach him, to stop his senseless death. She should have saved him. She was closer to him than anyone- ‘One of two’ their twin bond. And still. Then again her efforts fell woefully short in her attempt to save her Uncle Kieran, as well. Was her current situation just manufactured out of good old Irish Catholic guilt? Did she hope for redemption? By saving Klaus, Elijah, Marcel and Hayley, would her soul finally rest? Call it even? She tried to rack her brain for the prayer to St. Jude, the patron Saint of lost causes.
Or was she kidding herself? Did she seek redemption for her failures or damnation for them? Was it something entirely different that drove her? And then it happened again, the answers she sought floated out of her reach once more.
“We’re all going to die”
“Is that what you’re afraid of?”
“Who says I’m afraid of anything?”
“How can you expect your clients to open up to you when you won’t open up to yourself?”
“Want to talk about my dead brother? Dead uncle?
“What about the living…friends…boyfriends?”
“Some people don’t want to be saved.”
The whole conversation replayed over and over on repeat since she tried to fall asleep and the answers remained elusive. What was driving her? Who was she trying to save? Why? Why was she so determined to find the good in people? She had certainly seen enough evil, real undeniable evil, in the last several months to prove her theory wrong. Yet, here she was struggling with that very concept. It seemed each time an answer danced on the periphery of her mind, it vanished like a vapor; slipping from her grasp and bringing her back to the beginning.
She twisted the knob on the French doors leading out to her balcony and stepped out into the crisp fall night. With the wind whipping her blonde hair around her face and the hem of her gown around her calves, she held her face up to the briskness. The cold tingled her skin and she welcomed the numbness as it seeped into her body but never made its way to her mind. Nothing shut the questions out.
She kept circling back around to her twin brother, Sean. She failed him. She should have been able to reach him, to stop his senseless death. She should have saved him. She was closer to him than anyone- ‘One of two’ their twin bond. And still. Then again her efforts fell woefully short in her attempt to save her Uncle Kieran, as well. Was her current situation just manufactured out of good old Irish Catholic guilt? Did she hope for redemption? By saving Klaus, Elijah, Marcel and Hayley, would her soul finally rest? Call it even? She tried to rack her brain for the prayer to St. Jude, the patron Saint of lost causes.
Or was she kidding herself? Did she seek redemption for her failures or damnation for them? Was it something entirely different that drove her? And then it happened again, the answers she sought floated out of her reach once more.