Author's Note: Hello there, I hope you enjoy this start to the story. I'll be releasing the next Chapter whenever it's ready. All I need from everyone is honest and helpful reviews. I've never written a fanfic before, and I haven't attempted to write a story in a very long time, so I feel rusty.

Let me know what you like and hate. Where you'd like the story to go. Or even if you like the story at all.

I most obviously do not own any rights to the works of Cassandra Clare

It hurts her so


*Pl-op* the sound emanated over her, alongside the contents of the beaker placed on the table she was sitting at; and the feeling of dread quite often brought about by these situations. She tucked her hands under the table, knotting her fingers within the fabric of her top, readying herself for the oncoming abuse. But as she looked up into the threatening golden eyes, she knew would be behind this, she saw that the atmosphere of the situation was different.

"I thought I'd be nice enough to return this antique, you, call a phone." The culprit announced, whilst smirking at her mercilessly. His cronies were wailing with laughter, as her mind screamed in her misery. "No, no, no... not my phone!" She felt her eyes welling up and tried to fight back the tears. "I will not cry in front of them – I've prevented it so far, don't fail now... not even for this...".

She took her time to calm down, but as she did she realised she'd taken too long. It had been obvious from her prolonged silence, that they had hurt her, that they had achieved their malevolent goal. Breathing deeply, she cautiously scanned the faces of the people surrounding her, nearly all were still laughing. But the aureate young man standing amongst them was no longer laughing, nor the ethereal dark beauty standing beside him. Isabelle's silky tones called out to her. "What's wrong Fray? Couldn't look after your mundane crap? Haha!"

Clarissa flinched back into her chair. This was too much for her, and she had to get out of there. Attempting to sense if there was anyone blocking her path to the door leading to the rest of the Institute, without having to turn her back on her attackers, Clarissa planned her escape. They were all still laughing and pointing at her face. She could assume to know why too, as she felt her cheeks burning and knew that they were most likely the same colour as her copper hair, but she needed to use this as a distraction, to use it to run. The moment the group of friends bent into each other to laugh harder, she pushed herself out of the chair, leapt towards the direction of the door and forced her short legs to work hard and get herself out of there. She had pulled herself through the door by the time they'd straightened themselves up, and was making it towards the only place she'd ever felt safe since having to seek refuge within these walls. Hodge's greenhouse.

Once in the corridor heading towards her sanctuary, she could hear the group laughing even harder at her escape. But she could also hear the blood-curdling sound of someone pursuing her, and had to push herself harder than she ever had, to increase the distance between whoever it was and herself. She knew that she couldn't face yet another torturous blow, not today; she was at her limit once again, so as soon as she came across one of the smaller passages built into the Institute through which most average sized 16 year olds could not fit, she pushed her way through and tried her best to move quietly, so as to not give away her destination.

At the end of the passage she stopped to listen for anyone following her or approaching the greenhouse, and found that the way was clear. She leapt from her hiding place and lunged at the door, throwing herself inside. A flood of relief threw itself over her body, and she could finally feel herself relaxing for the first time since waking that morning. As she looked around in the evening sunlight, the scents and sight of the wonderful flowers blooming in the greenhouse still amazed her, and sent goosebumps all over her body, it didn't even feel like she had already been here for two months, and this would have been her 100th escape. Clarissa made her way to the east wing of the greenhouse, and to her favourite hideaway, where she had stashed her mothers sketchbook along with her own and a few pencils. Settling herself into the window seat there, she hugged her mothers book to her chest and finally allowed herself to cry.

Over the day the pain and hurt inflicted upon her by those hellions had climaxed at the point her phone was destroyed. She would have been able to contain the damage, if it had not been for that final blow. But still "What worse could they do now?" she asked herself thinking back on the day. Thinking back on everything and letting the sobs take over her body. Wayland and his cronies had destroyed the only images and recordings left of her mother. There was nothing left now. No chance for her to reminisce upon the best times in her life. She was truly alone in this unfamiliar world, and could ask no one for comfort; not even this sketchbook, it was the place her mother took herself when she wanted to be alone. The side of herself she couldn't share with her daughter, and it hurt Clarissa so. The sobs racked her body as she let the pain flow out of her. As she sobbed she started to fall asleep.

Clarissa shuddered awake at the sound of someone stomping around within the greenhouse. Her neck was stiff and her eyes felt sore and puffy, and then she could smell the sweet smelling plants surrounding her, and realised that she was still in her sanctuary. But she also became aware that someone else was here too. Listening carefully she could tell, that they were in the west wing near to the rock pool nestled in between long grasses, however she could also tell that they were not looking for someone – she was still safe, as long as she was smart enough to duck down and hide. At which point she decided it was better to act sooner than later, and she went to slink down off the windowsill she'd made a bed out of.

Just as she did, the sketchbook and pencils that had been resting in her lap fell to the floor, causing quite the ruckus...