When I was born the second time, I was convinced it had to be a dream. And let me just say—if this is a dream, then it's one way too fucking long dream. Or nightmare. Depends on your point of view.
My first years as baby Bonnie were… not great. I mostly slept, and when I wasn't sleeping, I was being breastfed. Yes, traumatic. Yes, it will haunt me forever. By the time I hit five, it was already obvious I wasn't a normal child. I could read, write, and toss around words most college grads couldn't define.
At six, Grams dragged me to a doctor to see if I was "gifted." Spoiler: I was. But only because I looked five when I was actually thirty-five.
My relationship with my "parents" wasn't exactly stellar. Then again, canon Bonnie didn't have great relationships with hers either. Abby left when I was four, and I never had a deep bond with her. I knew from the show she'd abandon me, lose her magic, and leave me to be raised by Grams and Rudy, the workaholic ex-husband.
If I ever see Abby again, I'm punching her. Hard.
Rudy was… fine, I guess. Always traveling for work, never around, but at least he tried. His version of parenting was buying me presents to earn my love.
Grams was the one who actually cared for me. She was the anchor in my life while Rudy worked and Abby vanished. But even with her, it wasn't the same bond canon Bonnie had. That was my fault. I knew she was destined to die, and canon Bonnie's worst mistakes came from the grief of losing her. I refused to let that happen again.
Not to mention, Grams kept quiet about the witch stuff. I thought maybe canon Bonnie had been told about magic as a child and later dismissed it as imagination. Nope. The moment Abby left, Grams locked up the attic where Abby kept her witchy things. Rudy and Grams both wanted me far away from magic.
But I couldn't help myself. Canon Bonnie's biggest problem was ignorance—she had no idea what she could or couldn't do. She was a total noob, and it got her killed. I wasn't going to let that happen. I needed knowledge, and fast.
Some canon events had already happened. Abby was gone. I'd even glimpsed Mikael once. I was already "friends" with Elena and Caroline. Well, mostly Caroline. She was a Barbie-type child—demanding, blunt, and surprisingly entertaining. Elena, on the other hand, was a crybaby. If I thought she was annoying as a teenager, I was wrong. As a child, she was worse.
I also knew Matt, Tyler, and Vicki. Our mothers were high school friends, and since we were all born the same year, they forced playdates on us while they got drunk reminiscing about their teenage years.
So yeah, I was already acquainted with the future Scooby Gang. Which meant it was only a matter of time before the Salvatores pranced into town and my peaceful life turned to hell. I kept a diary with everything I remembered from The Vampire Diaries and The Originals. I even had a section for the book timeline, just in case.
I knew some things had to happen, and some things had to change. Caroline still needed to be turned—she became an amazing vampire, strong and independent. But this time, I'd be there for her. Canon Bonnie had been a bitch about Caroline's transformation. Klaroline was happening, no matter what.
The ritual? Still happening. Klaus was always meant to be a hybrid. Vampires were part of nature because they had natural enemies—werewolves. Klaus being invincible didn't matter; fate made him a hybrid, and that was his destiny. I'd try to save Jenna, but if I couldn't… oh well.
Saving Alaric was high on my list. Fixing the Gilbert rings before the alter ego appeared was a must. Keeping Stefan on the bunny diet was non-negotiable—even if I had to volunteer for werewolf hunting with Klaus one summer. Ripper Stefan annoyed me too much. Stopping Finn and Kol from dying was also in my plans. Keeping Silas in stone forever? Top five priority. And killing Shane—the guy who screwed Bonnie over—was definitely on the list.
But all of that was still years away. Right now, I had to plan for the future.
It was a hot summer in Chicago. My father, Rudy, had come here on business, and I begged to tag along. I lied about wanting to spend my summer at the hotel pool. He relented, mostly because he hated Grams and taking me away from her was a win in his book.
He left early in the morning, probably forgetting his seven-year-old daughter in the hotel room. Whatever. He knew I was smart, too adult for my age.
Letting out a sigh, I paid the taxi driver and stepped out before he could ask where my parents were again. I stared at the building in front of me, a grin spreading across my face.
I walked into the bar slowly, taking in the atmosphere. It was like the 1920s had never left—timeless.
"What can I help you with, darling?" The woman behind the counter asked, amused. "You're not old enough to drink yet, doll."
"Hello, Gloria," I said, smiling at the witch who looked like she was in her forties.
"Hello, sweetheart," she replied, narrowing her eyes slightly.
"Can you teach me witchcraft?" I asked, stepping closer. "My name is Bonnie Bennett." I made sure to put steel in my last name.
"Well, aren't you an interesting little thing," Gloria smirked. She flicked her hand, and the front door locked with magic. Then she sauntered toward the back.
"You coming, little Bennett?" she called, hips swaying.
Grinning, I followed her.