"Are you sure about this?" Elena asked, concern laced in her tone.

"Yes, I'm sure," I answered for the millionth time, putting my luggage in the trunk, "I want to get better and this is the only way."

She let out a long breath before nodding, "You're right."

I shut the trunk before turning to face her, "Remember what the situation was last time? Letters only until I get phone privileges."

"I remember and weekend visits when the time is right?"

"Correct," I nodded, "I said goodbye to everyone except you so let's get this over with."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "You said goodbye to everyone?"

"Yes," I lied confidently but it was clear she didn't buy it. I let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over my face, "I was going to but I just couldn't. If I go, and he tries to convince me not to go, there is a large chance he might succeed. He's a huge part of the reason I'm going. I was awful to him. I was awful to all of you. I don't want to ever do anything like that again so that's why I'm going. I need to get better."

"Just tell him I needed a break, please?" I added, "And make sure he knows it's not a break from him, it's a break from everything."

"Alright…" she agreed reluctantly.

“Goodbye Elena,” I spoke with a soft smile.

“Goodbye Evie…” she said back before launching herself at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. "See you on the flip side?"

"See you on the flip side," I nodded as Stefan approached, "Bye Salvatore."

"Bye Gilbert," he responded before I got in my car.

I buckled my seatbelt and placed my hands on the wheel. Taking a deep breath, I started the car and drove off, waving a last goodbye at Elena and Stefan.

-

"Evelyn Gilbert," I spoke to the lady at the front desk, "I called yesterday?"

She nodded and closed the book before handing me a paper, "Sign here and here."

"I don't want to go!" I shook my head, a tear falling down my face, "Please don't make me go."

"It's for the best," my mother explained, "Otherwise we wouldn't be bringing you here."

I looked around at the people who were wandering around. They seemed...well normal.

"Please," I tried and I could see Elena and Jeremy standing behind our parents looking around. "I don't want to be alone."

"You won't be alone," my father argued, "We're still family and you aren't alone."

We approached the desk and the lady looked up with a smile, "How can I help you?"

"We called earlier," my dad answered, "We're here to check in our daughter."

"Can I have a name please?" she asked, pulling out a book with names.

"Evelyn Gilbert."

She nodded, closing the book and pulling out a piece of paper, "Sign here and here."

"Ma'am?" the lady asked.

I shook my head, "Sorry, sorry."

I quickly signed the paper before handing it back to her. She smiled, "He'll be taking you to where you'll be staying."

I looked up to see a man who spoke with an accent of sorts, "Right this way."

I nodded, following him to the rooms toward the back.

It was surreal...Being here after all this time. It was like being thrown in a time warp and I don't know how I feel about it.

"We'll need your phone and your bags, we have to make sure there is nothing that can hurt you and as I'm sure you know, phones are a privilege."

"Oh, yeah, of course," I nodded, placing bags down and handing him my backpack. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and looked at it one last time. Three missed calls from Damon and about a million text messages. I powered it down before handing it over.

He gave my stuff to one of the workers on the floor before guiding me to my room.

"At the moment it's just you, the other person living here checked out a few days ago," he stated and my breath hitched in my throat when I saw the room. "Her stuff will be gone soon."

"Checked out?" I asked as I looked around the room I hadn't been in since freshman year.

"That's what we're supposed to say," he shrugged. "They'll have your stuff here as soon as they finish looking through it. I can show you around if you'd like."

"This isn't my first time here," I shook my head, looking at the all too familiar stuff that cluttered her old desk.

"Oh, then welcome back," he nodded. "If you need anything, you know the drill."

He exited the room, shutting the door behind me.

I walked over to her desk and picked up her journal, turning it around and looking at it.

I tried to stop myself but curiosity got the best of me.

November 11, 2009

They don't believe me. Nobody believes me. But I know what I saw. He had sharp white teeth and his eyes were blood red, veins forming under them. He killed her, they said she killed herself but I know what I saw. He's a vampire.

I flipped ahead a few pages, closer to today's date.

December 4, 2009

They're telling me I'm crazy. My mom called yesterday and begged me to stop talking about vampires because they aren't real. They want to admit me into the psych-ward but I won't go.

December 5, 2009

I've made my decision. I refuse to be admitted and this is the only solution. To whoever is reading this, I'm sorry. I know that what I saw was real and I won't get hopped up on enough drugs that could probably kill me. Goodbye. For now.

I was about to look back further in the notebook when I heard someone outside the door and I shoved it under a pillow.

"Here are your things," a familiar female voice spoke and she looked up, a surprised expression clear on her face, "Evie?"

I smiled softly, grabbing my stuff, "The one and only."

"What happened? You were doing so well last time we talked."

Before the vampires and never ending death.

"Uh, yeah. Things kind of went downhill. Not as bad as last time but it was getting there. I kind of jumped ahead a few chapters and now were here."

"Well, I'm happy to see you again, I just wish it were under different circumstances," Clara smiled sadly, "Group therapy is in 5 minutes, you should head over soon."

"Thanks," I nodded, picking my bags up and plopping them on the bed. They had removed the arm extension. "I'll head over in a moment."

She smiled once more before walking away.

I knew the drill. No shoe laces, no hangers, no belts, no hoodie strings, no jewelry, no long charger cables when you get phone privileges. It's all a precaution.

I picked up my shoes and laid them at the bottom of my closet and placed my pre-folded clothes in the cubby provided.

I tossed my now empty bag under the bed and put my smaller bag on the chair at my desk.

Letting out a deep sigh, I joined everyone at group therapy.

I went to go take a seat in one of the last few seats left but the girl next to it hissed, "You can't sit there."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize," I apologized immediately before making my way to a seat on the other side of the circle.

"She does that," the boy next to me whispered, "Her name's Tessa. Her best friend, Sierra, died a few weeks ago. She went here, it was suicide. She used to sit there. They say she's in denial, that imagining she's there is her way of coping."

I frowned slightly, feeling awful.

"Don't sweat it," he shrugged, sticking his hand out. "I'm Spencer. The local teenage schizophreniac."

"Evelyn, you can call me Evie," I shook his hand, surprised at how open he was. Last time she was here, nobody really talked about why they were there.

"Nice name, new girl," he smiled.

"I didn't pick it," I responded as the therapist for the session took a seat.

"Hello everyone," she smiled. She was on the younger side and seemed to have a new soul, as though nothing bad had touched her yet which was odd considering where she worked.

"We have a new person joining us," she continued, her eyes landing on me, "Introduce yourself. Name, age and why you're here."

My eyes widened slightly, that would explain why he was so open, everyone else already knew, "Uh, Evelyn Gilbert. 17. Manic depression and severe anxiety. At least from what I've been told."

"Nice to meet you Evelyn, we're glad you've joined us."

Not including Spencer or Tessa, there were four other patients and two empty seats.

On Tessa's other side sat a shy looking girl. She wore long sleeves that covered her hands, one of which she was currently chewing the nails off of. Her hair was thrown up in a bun and she wore black sweats the same color as her shirt. The converse on her feet were shoelaceless and old but they seemed to suit her. She removed her hand from her mouth and spoke, "Hi Evelyn, I'm Sammy. Or-or Samantha or Sam. Or whatever you want to call me. Whatever works for you works for me."

"Hi Sammy," I smiled gently, hoping it would calm her nerves.

She relaxed slightly and nodded before the next person spoke.

"The name is Ryder," his voice was deep and when I looked at him he was smirking. He was wearing a suit. The buttons were in fact buttoned but he had no bow or tie. His hair was perfectly tousled and his eyes reminded me eerily of Damon's which made me frown. The only difference between Damon's eyes and the ones staring right at me is that the one looking right at me showed no compassion or empathy whatsoever. It was like Damon before we met. Ryder leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees, "Like what you see?"

"Oh shut up Ryder," someone said as they took a seat in the last remaining empty seat not counting the one Sierra was allegedly sitting in. "I'm James, I apologize for him, he's kind of..."

"Full of himself?" I finished and Ryder scoffed.

"Sounds about right."

"I'm Kyle," the girl next to Ryder spoke deeply.

Spencer leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Some days it's Kyle and other it's Kacey. Multiple personality disorder. Ryder is a psychopath and I mean that literally. James is like me, schizophrenic but he is also severely depressed."

"Hmm," I nodded taking everyone in when the last person in the group spoke up.

"I'm Charity," she grinned and I was surprised with her enthusiasm.

Spencer seemed to notice my confused look and he leaned in one last time, "Violently bipolar."

"I'm Dr.Sanchez," the therapist spoke before opening her notebook and clicking her pen, "Let's get to work."