Disclaimer: all characters belong to Cassandra Clair

Clarissa Fairchild stepped off the grungy school bus and prepared herself for another day of hell. Another day at Alicante high. She pulled her green cardigan tightly over her brown corduroy overalls. Her paint splattered converse dragged across the muddy terrain as she begrudgingly walked towards the school.

"hey carrot face, looking good…not"

She heard Jace call out. She looked up to see all the popular kids snickering loudly. She fought to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks and quickly scurried off to art class. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like an eternity. Finally, the day was over and Clary started to make her way back to the bus stop. She was almost there when she felt someone grab the collar of her cardigan. She screamed loudly as she spun around and slapped the face of a very stunned Jace Herondale. Shocked by her own actions, she pulled her cardigan back around her; running all the way home.

Clarys POV

I climbed up the trellis on the side of my house and crawled through the window. I sighed in relief. I took off my green cardigan and stared at the mirror; bruises, scratches and scares covered my pale arms. I was making my way to the bathroom when I stepped on a loose floorboard. I froze.

"CLARISSA?"

Boomed a deep voice.

"Yes father…."

I replied meekly.

"GET DOWN HERE!"

He replied; his voice filled with rage. I slowly walked down the stairs to greet my very drunk father.

"Go to the store, I need more beer."

"But father… I have homework."

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?"

"I have work to do… I don't have any time!"

"YOU STUPID BITCH"

He screamed as his fist collided with my gut. I buckled to my knees in pain as heard a gasp coming from outside. I pulled myself to the window to see our neighbour, Jace's brother, Alec Lightwood in the window staring at us from across the street. My father froze for a moment before grabbing my arm and dragging me to my room. Before I knew it all my stuff was thrown in a small cardboard box and I was forced into the backseat of our car. I watched as the place I called home slowly disappears in our rearview mirror. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks.

3 years later

Clary looked at herself in the mirror as she was getting ready for school. She wondered if they would recognize her. Her glasses and braces were gone and she had tamed her frizzy hair into long soft waves that cascaded down her back. Her black jeans hugged her newfound curves. Maybe she could fit in. Maybe she could live a normal life. But that was impossible. Because the bruises were still there. She sighed as she pulled her leather jacket over her green silk camisole to hide the scars. She slipped out the window and got on her motorcycle.

When she got to school, everything seemed the same. She whizzed through the parking lot and slid into a parking spot right before a hot pink Lamborghini could snatch the spot. As she pulled off her helmet a girl with platinum hair wearing a skimpy cheerleading outfit came up to her.

"excuse me, that was my spot" she snapped

"well… I don't see your name on it" retorted clary with newfound confidence.

"bitch, I will end you," the girl said

"I'd like to see you try" clary responded "I've dealt with a lot worse than spoiled sluts in my time"

she shoved passed the girl and sashayed into the school. She definitely had everyone's attention now.

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XOXO

Taylor and Grace