The Vampire Diaries: The Awakening Chapter Twelve

Elena rotated gradually before the full-length reflect in Aunt Judith's room. Margaret sat at the foot of the enormous four-banner bed, her blue eyes huge and grave with deference. â€Å"I wish I had a dress like that for stunt or-treat,† she said. â€Å"I like you best as somewhat white cat,† said Elena, dropping a kiss between the white velvet ears joined to Margaret's headband. At that point she went to her auntie, who remained by the entryway with needle and string prepared. â€Å"It's perfect,† she said heartily. â€Å"We don't need to change a thing.† The young lady in the mirror could have ventured out of one of Elena's books on the Italian Renaissance. Her throat and shoulders were exposed, and the tight bodice of the ice-blue dress flaunted her minuscule midsection. The long, full sleeves were cut so the white silk of the chemise underneath appeared on the other side, and the wide, clearing skirt simply brushed the floor all around her. It was a delightful dress, and the pale clear blue appeared to uplift the darker blue of Elena's eyes. As she dismissed, Elena's look fell on the good old pendulum clock over the dresser. â€Å"Oh, no-it's just about seven. Stefan will be here any minute.† â€Å"That's his vehicle now,† said Aunt Judith, looking out the window. â€Å"I'll go down and let him in.† â€Å"That's all right,† said Elena quickly. â€Å"I'll meet him myself. Farewell, make some great memories stunt or-treating!† She rushed down the steps. Here goes, she thought. As she went after the door handle, she was helped to remember that day, about two months back now, when she'd ventured straightforwardly into Stefan's way in European History class. She'd had this equivalent sentiment of expectation, of fervor and strain. I simply trust this turns out better than that arrangement, she thought. For the most recent week and a half, she'd stuck her would like to this second, to this night. On the off chance that she and Stefan didn't meet up today around evening time, they never would. The entryway swung open, and she ventured back with her eyes down, feeling practically bashful, hesitant to see Stefan's face. Yet, when she heard his sharp indrawn breath, she gazed upward rapidly and felt her heart go cold. He was gazing at her in wonder, yes. In any case, it was not the pondering delight she'd recognized clearly that first night in quite a while room. This was something nearer to stun. â€Å"You don't care for it,† she murmured, sickened at the stinging in her eyes. He recouped quickly, as continually, flickering and shaking his head. â€Å"No, no, it's lovely. You're beautiful.† At that point for what reason would you say you are remaining there looking as though you'd seen a phantom? she thought. Why not hold me, kiss me-something! â€Å"You look wonderful,† she said unobtrusively. What's more, it was valid; he was smooth and attractive in the tux and cape he'd wore as far as concerns him. She was astonished he'd consented to it, yet when she'd made the proposal he'd appeared to be more interested than everything else. A little while ago, he looked exquisite and agreeable, as though such garments were as normal as his typical pants. €Å"we would be advised to go,† he stated, similarly calm and genuine. Elena gestured and went with him to the vehicle, however her heart was not, at this point simply cool; it was ice. He was further away from her than any time in recent memory, and she had no clue about how to get him back. Thunder snarled overhead as they headed to the secondary school, and Elena looked out of the vehicle window with dull disappointment. The overcast spread was thick and dull, in spite of the fact that it hadn't really started to rain yet. The air had a charged, electric feel, and the dismal purple clouds gave the sky a nightmarish look. It was an ideal environment for Halloween, threatening and extraordinary, however it woke just fear in Elena. Since that night at Bonnie's, she'd lost her gratefulness for the scary and uncanny. Her journal had never turned up, despite the fact that they'd looked through Bonnie's home start to finish. She despite everything could hardly imagine how it was truly gone, and the possibility of a more interesting perusing her most private considerations caused her to feel wild inside. Since, obviously, it had been taken; what other clarification was there? More than one entryway had been open that night at the McCullough house; somebody could have quite recently strolled in. She needed tokill whoever had done it. A dream of dull eyes rose before her. That kid, the kid she'd nearly surrendered to at Bonnie's home, the kid who'd caused her to overlook Stefan. Is it accurate to say that he was the one? She animated herself as they pulled up to the school and constrained herself to grin as they cleared their path through the lobbies. The rec center was scarcely composed bedlam. In the hour since Elena had left, everything had changed. At that point, the spot had been loaded with seniors: Student Council individuals, football players, the Key Club, all putting the completing addresses props and view. Presently it was loaded with outsiders, the majority of them not even human. A few zombies turned as Elena came in, their smiling skulls obvious through the decaying tissue of their countenances. An abnormally twisted hunchback limped toward her, alongside a carcass with outraged white skin and empty eyes. From another bearing came a werewolf, its growling gag secured with blood, and a dim and sensational witch. Elena acknowledged, with a shock, that she was unable to perceive a large portion of these individuals in their ensembles. At that point they were around her, respecting the ice-blue outfit, reporting issues that had grown as of now. Elena waved them tranquil and moved in the direction of the witch, whose long dull hair streamed down the rear of a tight-fitting dark dress. â€Å"What is it, Meredith?† she said. â€Å"Coach Lyman's sick,† Meredith answered terribly, â€Å"so someone got Tanner to substitute.† â€Å"Mr.Tanner ?† Elena was stunned. â€Å"Yes, and he's raising hell as of now. Poor Bonnie's just about had it. You would be advised to get over there.† Elena murmured and gestured, at that point advanced along the curving course of the Haunted House visit. As she went through the frightful Torture Chamber and the horrible Mad Slasher Room, she thought they had nearly builttoo well. This spot was frightening even in the light. The Druid Room was close to the exit. There, a cardboard Stonehenge had been developed. In any case, the quite little druid priestess who remained among the somewhat sensible looking stone monuments wearing white robes and an oak-leaf festoon looked prepared to begin crying uncontrollably. â€Å"But you'vegot to wear the blood,† she was stating pleadingly. â€Å"It's a piece of the scene; you're a sacrifice.† â€Å"Wearing these absurd robes is awful enough,† answered Tanner without further ado. â€Å"No one educated me I would need to spread syrup all over myself.† â€Å"It doesn't generally get onyou ,† said Bonnie. â€Å"It's simply on the robes and on the special raised area. You're a sacrifice,† she rehashed, as though by one way or another this would persuade him. â€Å"As for that,† said Mr. Leather treater in appall, â€Å"the precision of this entire arrangement is profoundly suspect. In spite of mainstream thinking, the druids didnot construct Stonehenge; it was worked by a Bronze Age culture that-† Elena ventured forward. â€Å"Mr. Leather expert, that isn't generally the point.† â€Å"No, it wouldn't be, to you,† he said. â€Å"Which is the reason you and your psychotic companion here are both falling flat history.† â€Å"That's uncalled for,† said a voice, and Elena looked rapidly behind her at Stefan. â€Å"Mister Salvatore,† said Tanner, articulating the words as though they implied Now my day is finished . â€Å"I assume you have some new useful tidbits to offer. Or then again are you going to give me a dark eye?† His look went over Stefan, who remained there, unknowingly exquisite in his totally custom fitted tux, and Elena felt an unexpected stun of knowledge. Leather expert isn't generally that a lot more established than we are, she thought. He looks old due to that retreating hairline, yet I'll wager he's in his twenties. At that point, for reasons unknown, she recollected how Tanner had taken a gander at Homecoming, in his modest and glossy suit that didn't fit well. I'll wager he never at any point made it to his own homecoming, she thought. What's more, just because, she felt something like compassion toward him. Maybe Stefan felt it, as well, for in spite of the fact that he came forward to the little man, standing up close and personal with him, his voice hushed up. â€Å"No, I'm most certainly not. I think this is getting made a huge deal about. Why don't†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Elena couldn't hear the rest, yet he was talking in low, quieting tones, and Mr. Leather treater really appeared to tune in. She looked back at the group that had assembled behind her: four or five demons, the werewolf, a gorilla, and a hunchback. â€Å"All right, everything's under control,† she stated, and they scattered. Stefan was dealing with things, despite the fact that she didn't know how, since she could see just the rear of his head. The rear of his head †¦ For a moment, a picture flashed before her of the principal day of school. Of how Stefan had remained in the workplace conversing with Mrs. Clarke, the secretary, and of how strangely Mrs. Clarke had acted. Sufficiently sure, when Elena took a gander at Mr. Leather expert now, he wore the equivalent somewhat stupefied articulation. Elena felt a moderate wave of anxiety. â€Å"Come on,† she said to Bonnie. â€Å"Let's go up front.† They slice straight through the Alien Landing Room and the Living Dead Room, slipping between the segments, turning out in the primary room where guests would enter and be welcomed by a werewolf. The werewolf had taken his head off and was conversing with two or three mummies and an Egyptian princess. Elena needed to concede that Caroline looked great as Cleopatra, the lines of that tanned body honestly noticeable through the transparent cloth sheath she wore. Matt, the werewolf, could barely be accused if his eyes continued wandering descending from Caroline's face. â€Å"How's it going here?† said Elena with constrained gentility. Matt began marginally, at that point moved in the direction of her and Bonnie. Elena had barely observed him since the evening of Homecoming, and she realized that he and Stefan had dra