Staying in the morgue was a very bad idea. Elena's started to realise that her being stubborn when it came to being relocated, even to the security the Boarding House gave her, was one of the many stupid decisions she had made in her very short - and possibly now eternal - life. Sitting on the floor by one of the tables with her head in her hands didn't muffle how strong the scent of anything was. No matter how hard she pushed the flesh of her palm against her nose, she could still smell everything; Damon, blood, death. She could smell the lake that claimed her entire life, from her parents, to who she used to be, to who she wanted to be, soaked into the very fibre of her damp clothes.

      Elena was usually accepting of the events that occurred in her life, from the Salvatore's returning to Mystic Falls to learning about her ancestry, but the idea that she was dead was something she denied herself to even think about. She just wanted to be herself again, without the amplified senses she knew came with the territory of being a new vampire.

      With a deep breath in, she pulled her hands away from her face and ran them through her hair, mussing it. "I have to go see Matt. I need to know that he got out of the car okay." She couldn't bear the thought of losing another person so very important to her, especially when she could've somehow prevented them going off of the bridge. Seeing Matt, knowing he was alive, allowed her to, somehow, believe that everything was okay when it was far from even being in the vicinity of the word.