I looked down at my mother's pale face. Her eyes were half shut, sweat gleamed on her forehead. She breathed with a rattling sound. I reached out for her face with my trembling hands and wiped her auburn hair from her face. 'Mom?'I asked. No answer. 'Please,' I begged, 'please, don't leave me. I don't know what to do without you, I can't handle it alone.' Slowly, very slowly, her lovely green eyes fluttered up to my face. She tightened her hands around mine.

'Don't,' she said. 'You're going to be alright, I know that you will be. You have to get away from here, make a new life for yourself. Be happy. And never forget that I love you.'

Her hands released mine and her eyes closed again. When she spoke again, she spoke so softly that I had to lean forward to hear her words.

'Can you sing for me, little bird?'

I'm the one with the ghosts in my bed,
But they only come alive at night.
Stuck in my sheets an accustomed coffin,
I swear that I'll be fine,
I'll be fine in the daylight.
If I change, I start to fade,
And all the green in my eyes desaturate,
It's my head not my heart that's strayed.
I'm sorry I keep pushing you away.

You're the one at the foot of my bed trying to keep me alive at night.
Using words as a comforter you said, "I don't wanna fight, I don't wanna fight."
But they, they sink into my skin,
Pushing you out just to make their way in.
I've grown sick of this fight so frequent.
If you can't help it then I'll push you away.

Why can't you stay?
I'm up against these things I can't see.
They don't compare.
Make me believe, make me believe.

I softly sang the newly written lyrics out to myself, trying the sound of the words on my tongue. It had been around 2 AM when I'd woken up from a nightmare, parts of lyrics haunting my mind, so it was impossible to get back to sleep. Instead, I had taken a notebook and started writing down words. It was nearly six in the morning when I finished, and I could already see a red light creeping through my window. I had no curtains; they were a luxury I couldn't afford. I didn't earn a lot of money with my song writing, just enough to afford the rent of my small, crappy room and just enough food to keep me alive. In the weekends I worked as a waitress in a small restaurant. I hated that job, but it earned me just enough money for clothes and stuff like that. It was a simple live that I lived, but I was content with it. I loved writing lyrics and music in general and I was happy to do the work I loved.

After recording a demo of the lyrics, I started my computer up and uploaded it. It were good lyrics, so I hoped I would get around 100-200 dollars. That would provide me for enough food and a place to live for about a month. I hesitated though, before I put the lyrics online for sale. They were really personal, written to be sung by me, not by some other singer who didn't know the real meaning of them. In the end I put them up for sale though, because I could really use the money.

I turned the computer off and went to bed again, trying to get some sleep before I couldn't anymore, due to the bright daylight coming from my curtain-less window.

After sleeping for what felt like minutes, I awoke to the sound of my mobile phone beeping. Still half dazed from sleeping I tried to find my phone to turn the alarm off. That was before I realized that I hadn't set an alarm for this morning. I was fully awake at once when I discovered that someone was trying to call me. Desperately, I must say, since I already had missed ten earlier calls from the same unknown number. Hesitantly I picked up.

'Hello?'

'Hi, is this Clarissa Fray?' a young woman's voice asked. I didn't recognize her voice.

'Um, yeah, that's me, what can I help you with?' I responded politely.

'Oh, good. I'm Isabelle Lightwood, sister of Jace Herondale, also known as his stylist and manager. I call because of the demo of the lyrics you put up for sale last night, because we think that it are great lyrics and we would love to...'

'Jace Herondale?' I squeaked, interrupting her. It couldn't be true. 'As in, the famous Jace Herondale?' As in the too perfect to be true, golden eyed rockstar? He was the most popular singer around, you could see him on every billboard in New York. Damn, you couldn't even buy a magazine without seeing him, most of the time shirtless, on the cover of it. He was known to be cocky, a little arrogant and a party animal. He was one of those guys who had a new girl every week, just because they could.

The girl laughed. 'Yes, that Jace Herondale. So, as I said, we think you're lyrics are perfect for him, but we don't want him to sing them alone. In other words: we want to buy your lyrics and want to ask you if you have any interest in doing a duet with him?'

My eyes almost popped out of my head. This was big. Really, really big. Singing a duet with someone as famous as Jace Herondale could make me famous too. So it would definitely rid me of my financial problems. But fame wasn't really a good thing, not for me, since I didn't want my father or brother figuring out where I am. But a chance like this...

'Clarissa? Are you still there?'

I realized only then that she was waiting for my answer. 'Sorry, I was a little... overwhelmed. But I would love to do a duet, though I've got some conditions,' I said.

'Well,' Isabelle said, 'I'm sure we can arrange something. When do you have time to make an appointment?'

So... what do you guys think? Oh, I'm already sorry for the grammar mistakes that I've made, since I'm from The Netherlands English can be a bit hard for me..;) The lyrics in this chapter are from PVRIS, you really should check their music out if you don't know them, its amaaazing!