PROLOGUE
WHEN MONSTERS CALL

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     Rowan only lasted until the parade on Founder's Day before she decided it was time to head home. To everyone else, the parade was the best part of the day. To her, it was a reminder that she would never be allowed to be in it. Not because she wasn't pretty or smart enough, but because she wasn't lucky enough to have a founder's last name attached to her family tree. She couldn't decide who she was more envious of. Caroline Forbes, who managed to somehow always get the things Rowan wanted, or Elena Gilbert, for being so unbelievably perfect every single time she stepped out into public. Both made her blood boil for different reasons—though she still couldn't name the differences herself—and she found herself biting back scathing remark after scathing remark as she pushed through the crowd inside The Grill to get to where Tyler Lockwood was shooting pool by himself.  

"Take me home," she ordered, planting a firm hand on the pool stick to keep him from taking another shot. Tyler glanced up at her with a frown, tugging at the stick to get her to move her hand. She didn't. He let out a sigh and straightened, leaning his hip against the table.

"You could at least buy me dinner first," he said, doing nothing but making her blood boil further. Her face went even colder than it had been before, her red-painted lips twisting into a sneer.

"Take me home, Tyler," she said slowly, "before you cross the line between being only a little bit useful to completely useless." He scoffed and yanked on the stick again. This time, it flew from beneath her hand. She pulled her hand back, ignoring the burning sensation on her palm where the stick had rubbed her raw. Tyler looked her up and down, taking in the long red hair and all-black ensemble before he said anything.

"You're being a bigger bitch than usual," he noted, making her glare. "How many people's heads have you bitten off before you got to me?" She couldn't help herself; she flashed him a grin that held more coldness than it did humor.

"I made a freshman cry ten minutes ago," she said with a sharp laugh. "Does that count?"

"Brutal." He clicked his tongue and went to prepare for his shot again. "Let me finish this game and I'll drive you." She sneered again. Without another word, she twisted on her heel and strode away, snapping at people to get out of her way as she walked. Most of them did, and the few who didn't scurried away the second they saw who they had been in the way of. She paid them no mind. She needed to get out of that restaurant, needed to get away from all those crowds of people so that she could get to work on making herself forget the envy that had been clawing at her all day. She pushed the door open and made her way to the sidewalks, glancing back and forth, hoping to see someone she could persuade into taking her home. Everyone was either in The Grill or listening to Mayor Lockwood's speech.

Scowling, she turned right and started walking. It would take longer, but at least she would be away from all those people. She'd be away from the guys hitting on her, and she'd be away from Caroline and all her backhanded compliments. She wouldn't have to witness Elena hanging off Stefan's arm and looking happier than Rowan had ever seen her. She didn't know why seeing Elena so happy made her so angry. Rowan should have felt happy for her, should have been glad that she was finally smiling again after the tragic passing of her parents. Instead, all she felt was an ache in her chest and an emptiness in her stomach, like it had dropped through her feet and never really clawed its way back into place.

I'm just jealous of her, she thought. I'm jealous of Caroline, too. She still didn't know how those two thoughts could ring true while also feeling so utterly wrong.

She shook her head and continued walking.

She was halfway home when she felt it. Goosebumps rising on her bare arms, a knowing sensation creeping up her spine and neck. She stopped in her tracks and whipped her head around to look behind her. She couldn't see anyone, but that hardly meant anything. The streets were empty—everyone was either home or at the Founder's Day celebrations—and it was night, so shadows were everywhere around her. The only thing offering light was the one streetlamp and the light of a house at the corner. If she managed to get past that one single house, she'd be surrounded by even more houses. She'd be home.

When she started walking again, she was going faster.

Bonnie and Elena always told her that she should try being a bit nicer. That, eventually, karma would come for her, and it wouldn't be pretty. Rowan had always laughed off their concern. She didn't really believe in karma. It was why she had invited it to come to her. She had never expected it to actually come. But now her heart was beating hard in her chest and her skin was prickling and she could feel invisible eyes on her back and she felt like her lungs were on fire. She reached the single house and broke into a run. She didn't stop until she reached her neighborhood, stopping at the beginning of the street and leaning against the white-picket fence of one of her neighbors. She lived only two houses down. She could see her house as she gulped in air. The front porch light was on, and she could see her parents moving around in the living room through the open curtains. Her shoulders slumped and she let out a relieved sigh, pushing away from the fence. She cast one more uncertain glance over her shoulder.

Still, she saw nothing, and she suddenly felt very foolish. Of course no one had been following her. She had just been feeling paranoid because of how late it was. Shaking her head again, she composed herself and took a step to continue walking.

Rowan.

She stopped. She didn't know where the voice was coming from. It echoed around her, loud but silent, a whisper and a shout. Blinking, she glanced around her, trying to see if someone else was on the street. Tried to think of any other scenario than a voice echoing around in her head. She suddenly remembered the gaps in her memory as of late and promptly clasped her hands over her ears and lowered her head, sucking in a sharp gasp as she tried to bury the panic rising in her chest.

I'm not crazy, she thought, desperately trying to convince herself it was true. I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I'm not—

Calm down. Don't move. At once, her panic resided. Rowan knew she should have felt fear, should have started running again. This wasn't normal. Sane people did not hear voices in their heads. They did not obey the voices in their heads. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't get it out of her throat. She was so close to her house, yet her feet were rooted to the sidewalk beneath her. Come here.

Immediately, Rowan turned toward the gate of the fence she was leaning against and pushed it open, stepping onto the walkway leading up to the house. She didn't know how she knew where to go. It was like the voice was pulling her. She tried to make herself stop, tried to turn back around, tried to ignore it. It didn't work. She reached the front door and went inside.

She wouldn't be alive when she came out.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not sure how I feel about this prologue yet. I've rewritten it twice already, and I can't seem to get down what I'm picturing in my head. But this is the closest I've gotten, so.

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