Two Years Ago
The Stripper.
My worst enemy.
I glared disapprovingly at the waterslide as I followed behind Isabelle Lightwood and Simon Lewis, my two best friends. It was the only attraction in New York's prestigious waterpark, creatively entitled "Got Water?" that I hadn't tackled. As many times as I had tried, I couldn't conquer the endless twists, tosses, drops, and twirls that sent so many off the ride cheering with glee.
But I hated it.
Not because the ride was named after something outrageously inappropriate and infuriating. Not because so many had tried to force me on the ride. Not because of the 60 foot drop that punctuated the slide.
But because it was pitch dark.
The dark made me uncomfortable. Ever since I was able to register feelings, it gave me so much emptiness and misery. Plus, it was pure twilight when I – at the age of nine - was snatched away from my mother and kept for two weeks.
And no one knew. I had absolutely no recollection of what was done to me during that time. Sometimes I wondered if they'd found a way to keep me unconscious for the whole two weeks. But as soon as I had been returned home, my mother had told me that my Sunday School teacher had told her all about my trip.
"What trip?" I'd asked through the curtain of tears as I tightly wrapped myself around my mother's waist.
"The one you went on with the church? To Florida?" My mother had been told that I'd been taken on the church's annual surprise trip. Even though I knew that wasn't, when I'd risked a tear-obstructed glance at the person who I assumed was my captor - a skinny but built boy with dark eyes and snowy blond hair who never seemed to get older – named Mr. Verlac, one look at his stance, his glare, his fake smile told me that I knew I couldn't speak a word.
So I didn't. I sacrificed dignity and bravery for the probability that my mother would be safe. And the short kidnappings continued, every year on the exact same date, for the same two weeks. Even when we switched churches, then when we stopped going to church all together, my mom thought I had formed a "tight connection" with the group and wanted to continue participating.
That's how my life became a recurring nightmare.
"Clary!" Simon shouted, snapping his fingers in his face, making me aware to the fact that this wasn't the first time he'd tried for my attention. "Hello? Anyone in there?"
"Sorry!" I said, quickly fetching the happy façade I'd spent months building. "What'd you say?"
"I said come on!" And then Simon perked a mischievous grin and pointed suggestively at the Stripper.
"Nope," I said, shaking my head and crossing my arms over my chest. I was used to standing my ground on this one.
"Today's the day!" Isabelle fought in a singsong voice. Then, realizing I wasn't about to budge, she added. "What are you even afraid of?"
This struck me. "I don't want to answer that."
"If you don't," Izzy said, an exact copy of Simon's sly smile spreading across her lips. "I'll tell Jace that you're in love with him."
I blushed fiercely. Then I mentally slapped myself. Then I actually slapped myself. "I don't love Jace," I snapped, my eyes narrowing.
"Your face says otherwise," Izzy announced promptly.
"I find him mildly attractive."
"Mildly?" Simon snorted. I glared at him and he lowered his eyes.
"Look, Izzy, you told me when I first admitted that to you that you feel the same way about Simon, so…" I held my hands up. It was no secret that Izzy wanted Simon to think of her as more – and he did – but even so, Izzy shot me a silencing look and Simon nearly fell.
"Whatever," Izzy said, trying to brush off her embarrassment. "The ride is two minutes long. You'll be fine." Then Izzy took my wrist in a death grip and dragged me toward the ride.
I didn't resist, because she was right. I could handle two minutes. For six years, I'd been able to stay at least relatively sane during and after two weeks of torture. Two minutes would be nothing. That was thirteen less days, 336 less hours, 20,156 less minutes. Absolutely nothing.
"This is ridiculous," I grumbled to myself as Izzy, Simon, and I settled into a place at the end of the line.
"What's that?" Izzy asked sarcastically.
"I said this is ridiculous! Why did I let you talk me into this? I don't owe you anything! Even the name is sardonic," I screeched, drawing the attention of a few confused thrill-seekers surrounding us.
"You do owe me. You blurted," Izzy whisper shouted, but the anger in her eyes was mostly playful. "And the name is stinking funny. It's not referring to a pretty girl – or boy - who takes off her clothes for money. It's like stripping someone's façade. When you go on this thing, you get tested. It reveals someone's true personality, judging by how loud they scream." She smiled a devilish smile.
I wasn't feeling Izzy's tactic. She was trying to calm me down using twisted humor. I preferred Simon's tactic.
"Listen, Clary. If you panic, just close your eyes," he soothed.
"What's the point? It'll be just as dark," I pointed out.
"Ahh, yes. But this way, you'll be controlling the dark."
Genius. Absolutely perfect. This will work, Simon, this will indeed work. "That's brilliant, Si. Thank you," I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed a light kiss on his cheeks. Then I waited patiently for my own personal nightmare.
0.o.O.o.0
"Could you please step up on the scale, please?" The chipper lifeguard asked as Izzy, Simon and I prepared to load ourselves into the torture train. As we were collectively weighed, I observed the situation. The tubes resembled a plus sign, with a spot in the middle for the riders' legs, and four branches where we were supposed to sit. There were two handles on either side of the branch. I vaguely wondered if they'd be steady enough to keep me from flailing off the ride into universal oblivion.
"Thanks, you guys, you're good." My legs shook as I stepped off the scale. The inside of the tube was so dark, I considered jumping off the tower to avoid the slide of doom.
Izzy's hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. At first I thought she was trying to comfort me, and then I continued my observation.
The first lifeguard was Izzy's brother, Alec. Raven hair like his sister, but blue eyes that contrasted her dark ones. I didn't know him extremely well, so I felt nothing at seeing him. The other lifeguard was – you guessed it – your favorite more-than-mildly attractive golden god.
Immediately, I stiffened. My heart stilled momentarily and my breathing hitched. It was the usual reaction. For me, at least. Most girls just swooned, burst into tears, or fainted. Mine was a lot subtler. It could go on for seconds to hours after contact. Today, the reaction was short. It halted as soon as I saw Jace flash a wink at a girl with pink hair and big boobs and was reminded that Jace was an obnoxious player.
I rolled my eyes and yanked my wrist from Izzy's grip. I crossed my arms over my chest and decided to look down at my feet. Then Alec beckoned us forward, Izzy placing a kiss on his cheek as she went, and we all sat in place. The only empty seat was between Simon and me.
I took a deep breath, but it shook as I released it. I was not ready for this. I would regret it. I was not going to be okay. Alec passed the tube down to Jace who began a flirty conversation with Isabelle. I glanced up momentarily, but the anxiety twirled in my stomach. I let out a nervous groan, which drew Jace's attention to me.
"Scared, Fray?" he teased, smiling. I looked at him for a moment, but once again, the nervous nausea hit me and I was forced to look down. "It's not that bad," Jace said quietly, so only I could hear it. His tone was no longer playful. "You'll be fine, I promise."
I managed to give a subtle nod, but it didn't do anything to settle me. In fact, I was slightly unsettled that Jace knew my first name, much less my last.
The line was building up and the light was green. It was time. I closed my eyes. Controlled darkness, I repeated it in my head like a mantra. Then I nearly puked when the tube bounced around and I thought the ride had begun.
Only it hadn't.
I opened my eyes to find that Jace had stripped off his shirt – causing a completely separate jumble in my stomach – and hopped in the empty spot in the tube. "Hey, guys, I'm Jace," he announced grinning as if we didn't know.
Expertly, Izzy pulled a piece of paper from – nowhere, it seemed, and flicked it across the tube to Jace. Just as expertly, he managed to catch it. He laughed a little as he read it. Izzy's phone number, I guessed. But when I looked like it, the number looked a lot like mine-
"Jace," Alec's voice came exasperated from behind us. "What are you doing?" Jace responded with a single smirk in his direction and a "Rock on" hand sign. Then Jace pushed away from the while and we went down.
I closed my eyes hurriedly and concentrated on breathing. But then something funny happened. I felt someone take my hand surely but softly and place it in their own as soon as the darkness enveloped us. It was Jace.
This didn't help my breathing, but I was able to calm myself enough to keep from blacking out until the end. Once the light, reached us, Jace released my hand, not wanting it to be seen. But I didn't mind. It was over.
I had made it through alive and still partially sane, but I knew I wouldn't ever do it again. "Jace?" the lifeguard at the bottom asked as we all exited the tube. "Your shift's not over yet."
"Yes, it is, Phil," Jace responded. He winked at the other lifeguard, and then shook off his hair.
"You're going to get fired, you know," The lifeguard – Phil – told him.
"I know."
"And my name's George," Phil said.
"Yeah, sure it is, Phil," Jace responded sarcastically, flashed a smile at the three of us, then stalked off in the direction of the employees office.