I know it's been a long time since I have posted anything, but I have been thinking that I won't continue some of my other stories and that I might just focus on one-shots. I like those the best when it comes to my writing.
So, anyway, this is my first songfic. I kinda like the idea.
It's Mortal Instruments. Yay!
Don't judge me, since this is my first songfic.
I don't own anything from Mortal Instruments. Cassandra Clare is the lord of that. And I definitely don't own Little Ghost by White Stripes.
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Little Ghost
I adjusted my hair slightly. My insides fluttered anxiously as if butterflies were flapping about in there. I felt stupid looking in his mirror. Why he had a mirror the size of a wall in his room, I had no idea. But I didn't question it. My reflection was barely visible so I looked away, it's not like it would help me feel better about myself. I was never quite that pretty. I doubt that he would think so either.
But I have to try. I can do this.
Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I heard the sound of a door opening and I raced out of his room perfectly clean room. I stood in the, also perfectly clean, living-room and played a bit with my shirt and brushed imaginary dust off my jeans. Then he walked in. No matter how many times I looked at Jace Herondale, no matter how many times I tried to regulate my breathing while doing so, I still stared like a deer in the headlights of a car.
I didn't think a person could be golden, but I was mistaken. Horribly so. Golden irises for eyes, golden skin and hair. He was too perfect for his own good. He cast his eyes in my direction and my un-beating heart would've swelled if . . . I was alive.
I could be seen by people, even though I was ghost. Not the haunting type, don't call Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm a good ghost, not a poltergeist. I had talked to my best friends, Izzy Lightwood and Simon Lewis. Well, not really. I can't talk. All I can use it play charades and hope they understand what I'm acting out.
But eventually, they couldn't see me anymore. I don't know what happened, but they just stopped. And that's when I knew I had to go to Jace.
Jace could see me. He would see me, even if only for a little bit.
Then all my hopes crashed and burned when he walked straight through me. It felt weird, no one had walked through me before. It was like I had suddenly been tossed into a blizzard.
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
Jace couldn't see me. I fell to my knees and yelled, no sound coming out. I had spent my years in high school admiring him, but he had never even spared me a glance. What the heck was I to him? I knew I could be seen! I knew I could! Simon had said so! Or when he could see me he did!
Maybe I was too late. Maybe Jace didn't believe in ghosts? I watched him sit down in front of his TV and turn it on to some show called Sherlock. I frowned. I tried to scream but nothing came out.
I flicked his forehead, though.
Nothing. Not even a wince or twitch.
The first moment that I met her
I did not expect a specter
When I shook her hand I really shook a glove
Days passed and Jace still couldn't see me. If I wasn't a little ghost I would be crying. But I still stayed at his house, watching him. He seemed sad, even his piano playing was downcast. His eyes didn't hold the playful, mischievous glint they had when I was alive and in high school.
What had happened? Did he break up with Aline? I knew her, she was so sweet and kind to him and to me. I could sometimes confide to her about a boy I liked called Jaceon. She didn't mind, although, I'm pretty sure she knew I liked Jace and was just too terrified to admit it.
Every time Jace passed me by I smiled at him or waved, hoping that there would be a slim chance that he would see me. There wasn't much to hope for there, but there was an inch and I was willing to go with that. But whenever I did wave he would just pass me by, not even noticing me.
She looked into me so sweetly
And we left the room discreetly
No one else could know the secret of our love
Jace was at his piano and I was sitting on the bench next to him. I watched his fingers move across the keys with such expertise that it would make Beethoven and Bach proud. This was a song I hadn't heard him play before.
It changed from light, sweet tunes to dark and void harmonies. I didn't know this song. Nothing I had heard from any recitals I had gone to. I had gone just to see him play. Don't you dare tell him that, or you will be joining me in the afterlife . . . when I get there that is.
I looked over his shoulder and stared at the sheet of music.
Dragostea Mea Pentru Roșcata
It was something in another language. That much I knew. But what did it mean? Jace suddenly stopped playing. His head fell in his hands and he started to weep. He made no sound but his shoulders shook violently.
Yep. He broke up with Aline.
Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
I wanted to cheer Jace up. He now never left his house, barely ate or drank anything. All he did was carve into a piece of wood that was attached a silver chain. I watched him do so. This time, it read: Te Voi Iubi Mereu Roșcata
This was driving me crazy.
Jace put down the carve and fingered his necklace. The one with an "M" or "W" on it. What it could've stood for, I will probably never know. But right now, all I cared about was Jace.
He just stared up at the ceiling. I walked over to him and bounced on the bed, no surprise that it didn't bend under my weight. I waved my arms wildly in front of him. I mouthed words to him. I tried everything. I hit him on the shoulder, I flicked his forehead, I fell on top of him, only to go through him.
I lay next to him and huffed my hair out of my eyes.
Every morning I awoke
And I see my little ghost
Wond'rin' if it's really her that's lying there
I lean to touch her and I whisper
But not brave enough to kiss her
When I held her I was really holding air
I give up! This idiot just won't see me! I laid on his couch and sighed. I was here. I know I am. So, why won't he see me?
Sometimes I think he can see me. He looks in my direction, but then looks away just as I think he can finally see me. But, obviously, he couldn't.
I shall live out the rest of my dead and wasted days on this sofa. He can sit on me and not even know I'm there!
Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
One day, I was still lying on the couch, and Jace was eating breakfast. He wasn't sitting on me, but on the edge of the sofa. I don't know why, that can't be too comfortable. He was mid-bite in a spoonful of his Frosted Flakes, when he looked at me.
"Okay," Jace sighed. "You haven't moved in ten days. What's up, Clary?"
Though I try my best to keep it
There really was no secret
Must have looked like I was dancing with the wall
My eyes widened and I jumped up. I pointed at him, then his eyes, then me.
"Yes, Clary, I can see you," he said. "By the Angel this is so stupid! Maryse is probably right, you just must be a figment of my active imagination. I should've just done like Simon and Izzy, continue to ignore."
So That's What Happened?!
I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. I am not stupid! I'm real and I'm here!
He stared at his Frosted Flakes and sighed. "Clary, is that really you?" He looked around. "God, I hope nobody comes in here and sees me talking to air."
I smacked him upside the head, but he just raised an eyebrow.
"That didn't hurt."
I frowned ran to his piano. He followed me, much to my delight. "Look, I'm not going to follow you for very long. I've just been so tired, and this- Wait, what do you want with the-"
I shoved the sheet of music in his hands.
No one else could see this apparition
But because of my condition
I fell in love with a little ghost and that was all
"Dragostea Mea Pentru Roșcată?" Jace asked me.
I nodded. I pointed at the words and shrugged my shoulders. Realization crossed his face, then he laughed. "I can't believe I'm talking to air. It's Romanian."
Anger washed over me like a tidal wave of lava. I'M NOT AIR! I'M A GHOST! THERE IS A DIFFERENCE!
I took a deep breath, counting to ten. When I finally calmed down, I tilted my head to the side, then looked back up at him, raising my eyebrows questioningly, still pointing at the words
He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his golden hair. "The title, in English, is My Love for the Redhead."
My jaw nearly hit the ground.
"I know, cliché, right?"
I shook my head vigorously, smiling like an idiot.
He sat down on the piano bench and sighed, "Are you really here, Clary?"
I nodded again. "I'm here," I mouthed.
Little ghost, little ghost
One I'm scared of the most
Can you scare me up a little bit of love?
I'm the only one that sees you,
And I can't do much to please you
Jace smiled and was about t reach out for my hand. "Clary, there's something I wanted to tell you. Something I wanted to tell you a long time ago." He was going to hold my hand. "Clary, I- Wha-What's happening to you?"
I began to glow a brilliant white. An angelic white. The kind you see at the end of your tunnel.
"Clary?" Jace asked, worry crossing his features. "What's going on?"
I shook my head and reached for his hand. My hand only went through his. He stared at me as I cried out. I crumpled to the ground as if I was falling apart, real tears pouring out of my eyes. My whole body glowed white and Jace was stepping away.
"Jace! Wait! I-"
And that's the last thing I remember before appearing in a large, meadow wearing a long, white dress. The sun brighter, the grass was greener, and everyone around me was laughing or smiling. Children ran around my legs and I suddenly forgot all about Jace Herondale.
I looked to my right and saw an easel with so many colors of paints. I walked over to it and touched the white canvas. I smiled too and picked up one of the paintbrushes.
I was in Heaven.
And it's not yet time to meet the lord above
No, it's not yet time to meet the lord above
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I think I started crying when I was writing this. I know that I'm not that good of a writer, but I hope you enjoyed this. I thoroughly loved writing this and I hope that you love it too! Whoever you people are.
By the way, listen to this song. Little Ghost by White Stripes
It's really, really good. I first heard when I watched ParaNorman. Good movie. I highly recommend it.
Now . . . what depressing Malec fanfiction can I write that shall utterly break your hearts?