this is my first story so I am sorry if there is any grammar mistakes or any problems with my spelling. warning this chapter contains a breif mention of rape but it doesn't go into that much detail on the act itself if you do not want to read that please leave now.

*unknown pov*

His on top of me, pulling at my clothes. No one can save me, no one is here but me and him. I don't want to cry not in front of him, but I can't stop myself. I feel weak, powerless, helpless. His holding me down with his body, his crushing me, I can't breath, I can't see, I'm trying to get him off but his too heavy. My pants and underwear are pulled down. I don't know when he got them off in the struggle. I hear his zipper being pulled down, I feel myself fight against him even harder then before. My struggling doesn't matter, his too big and he's putting all his weight on me making it to were the glass that is on the floor is digging into my back through my clothes. he's pulling my legs apart, I try kicking out but it does nothing

"Stop struggling sweet sister, you can't win." he says this in a frusterated tone.

"I will never give into you, never," I spat this out, I want to say more I want to tell him how I would rather him kill me then give in to him I want to tell him that if this is going to happen then I will fight it every step of the way but before I can he counties to speak.

"Oh that's to bad and here I thought you would be a good little sister and do as your brother says, oh well." and before I can say or do anything he pushes his hips forward and burries himself into me.

*clary's pov*

I woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath my dream, memory, playing in my mind. I start to dry heave, I scramble to get out of bed and make it to the toilet where I proced to get rid of everything I ate the night before. When I am done vomiting I let my head rest against the toilet seat, the cold surface feels like heaven against my forhead. The memory pushes itself to the forfront of my mind, I feel the pain, anger and panic that I always feel when the memory pushes itself into the front of my mind, which is every morning, it builds up quick and overwhelms me. I feel the tears I don't want to cry roll down my face I curl in on myself and sob, hating myself even more for doing so.

So, yeah that was the first chapter let me know what you think. critism is always good and welcomed as long as its constructive. if you have an idea for the title let me know cause I have nothing. don't be afraid to point out any grammar errors or spelling errors that way I can fix them.