Kudos to my wonderful beta, Sparrow13 without whom my story would just be an array of grammatical errors :P

I do not own the mortal instruments or any of the characters. The plot belongs to me.

"That's it mom, I need a break. I'm tired of all of the bullshit," shouted Clary, venomously at her mother.

"Oh? And where do you think you'll go? You're 22 and have no stable source of income, still live with your mother, and are doing nothing with your life!"

Clary winced. Was that all her mother saw when she looked at her? A disappointment? "I-I'll go stay with Isabelle and Maia for a while...until I find my own place," said Clary softly, starting towards the door, to pack her suitcase.

"And where do you think you're going to get the money to go all the way across the country? I'm not wasting my money on a soul searching wild goose chase."

"I'll use my savings. I have enough in there."

"You can not just get up and leave. And why haven't these savings been used for a better purpose? To pay the house rent? Or to get some groceries? You know I need it," Jocelyn purred, softening at the mention of money.

"Because it won't change anything. You'll just waste it all on alcohol for you and your newest lover," spat Clary, as she gathered her meager, but well loved possessions.

Her beloved sketchbook and remaining pencils, the laptop she had got for her last birthday spent with her dad, some old worn out clothes, books, her deceased father's old watch-which he had never taken off...Clary looked at the watch, over come with nostalgia.

Her father Luke Garroway had passed away two years ago, in a car crash. She had had the perfect family before the accident. Loving parents, great friends, and an amazing boyfriend...she had literally had it all.

But after her father's death, Clary's mother had retreated inside a shell, only emerging for more alcohol-to drown her sorrows, she said-and for her feckless, lay about, incompetent, alcoholic boyfriend. She had a new one every month, but all of them were the same story.

Clary had given up all hope. Her friends were suddenly strangers. They started to walk on eggshells around her, they became wary of her. She couldn't talk to any of them anymore. Her only friends were the ones who lived on the other side of the country. Isabelle, Maia and Simon. Isabelle and Maia were cousins. Their fathers co-owned a large business which was a catalyst to them shifting to California-where product demand was had left three years before Luke's death, but all three of them had remained great friends. Simon was Isabelle's dorky boyfriend, whom Clary had only seen through Skype calls. They had become instant friends, sharing a love of comics and Star Wars.

Clary had discovered that her dear boyfriend was cheating on her, and was 'tired of having an emotionally unstable girlfriend.' Needless to say, Clary had dumped his sorry ass.

She picked up her cellphone, which was lying haphazardly on her bed; she contemplated calling Isabelle, to actually go to California. She wasn't lying when she had said that she needed to get away. Her life was leading nowhere. She was no longer inspired to draw, which made her dreams of becoming an artist fade away. Maybe a change of scenery and perspective could help her regain what she had lost- a reason to keep afloat, to keep swimming.

Isabelle was Clary's best friend. Her partner-in-crime, her sister, her secret keeper. Of the remaining people in Clary's life, she was the only one who knew about Jocelyn's alcoholism, among other things. She had always told Clary that her family's arms were wide open if Clary wanted to shift to California. Isabelle's parents were like family to Clary. Her two brothers always treated Clary as another annoying sister around the house. But she didn't want to intrude...

She steeled her nerves and called Isabelle.

"CLARY! I haven't talked to you in so long! You should call more often," shrieked Isabelle.

Clary could imagine her standing in front of her pouting. She laughed.

"Well, would it be too hard for you to call me from time to time. Why do I always have to take the initiative?"

"Cause I'm lazy," she replied.

"To lazy to call your best friend?" asked Clary as she feigned a gasp, "Or have I been replaced?" she added dramatically.

"Of course not!" Izzy cried. They burst out laughing. Just a simple phone call to Isabelle lightened up Clary's mood drastically. Which brought her back to the main reason she had called Isabelle.

"Hey, Isabelle? Um...can I come to visit you? Maybe, tomorrow?"

For the next couple of minutes, Clary was temporarily deaf.

"Oh My God! Clary! You're coming here? Tomorrow? Seriously? If-you-are-kidding-I-will-snap-your-neck," screamed Isabelle, Clary could hear Alec, Izzy's older brother groaning as he questioned her.

"S-So I can come?" asked Clary. And she never repented anything in her life as much as she repented asking that question.

"Are you kidding me?" asked Izzy. "Of course! How long are you coming for?"

Clary winced, what would she say? Hey, I'm tired of my mom and need to get away from my sad, aimless, drab life? Could I live with you for a while?

Isabelle seemed to understand the pause in conversation. " Clary, my home is always open to you. Always. Come and stay for as long as you need to okay?" she said.

"Thank you," Clary sighed with relief.

She was finally leaving.

There were two reasons why she stuck around after so long- after Luke's death, Jocelyn becoming unstable and Clary not having the heart to leave her alone. The second reason was less complicated-she couldn't afford to live on her own.

Clary hurriedly packed her bag, praying to god that her mother had gone out so that she would not have to face a confrontation.

And that's it so far. Don't hesitate to drop a review, constructive criticism is also welcomed. :)b

-Ishika