Authors Note: Okay, I'm terrible at summaries so please bear with me. This story is about the secrets and hurt that people keep locked away. Most of the people we see everyday are not who we think they are, everyone has pain, and hurt, and everyone who does only wants someone to understand and help them through it. Clary's mother Jocelyn died when Clary was ten, her father; Valentine abuses her, when Clary turns sixteen she is sent to shadowhunter training school. It's sort of like a finishing school to make sure all the young shadowhunter's are ready for 'the big time'. Along the way Clary meets people who make her see the world in a different light. Simon, Isabel, Alec, and of course Jace. Clary is the only character who is 'out of character' since she grew up differently always pressured to be the best. She kind of has more of a bad ass attitude (Which I like better) Clary and Jace are musicians in this story so there will be song lyrics in it , okay I think you've heard enough of my rambling, On with it!

Prologue: Every Rose has its Thorn

: Clary's POV:

"The car will be here in approximately ten minutes, Miss Fray." One of the servants of the Morgenstern manor told Clary with a bow as he left the room. So many servants enter and leave that it was practically impossible to know any of their names not that she particularly cared. After her mother died she decided to keep her mother's maiden name, in a weird far out way it made her feel closer to her mother.

Clary dropped the suitcase she was rolling on the ground and sat on it. Taking her guitar out of the black case she was previously wearing on her shoulder. She was all packed and ready to go to The Institute, or shadowhunter school. In fact she's been ready to go for the past month, she just couldn't get out of this hell hole fast enough. Even if she was out every evening it wasn't the same as actually being away from her father, who she loathed with such a passion it was amazing she didn't implode every time she saw him.

She picked up her guitar, which was originally her mothers, and began strumming a tune, whatever song came into her mind, that was how her mother taught her.

"You play with your heart Clarissa, whatever you feel, whether it be anger, pain, or happiness let it guide you. Express it through yourself, make everyone listening feel the same thing you feel at that moment." Her mother once told her when she was eight and learned how to play. She took a deep breath and started to play.

We both lie silently still, in the dead of the night

As she played she let all the feelings she kept locked up out, remembering her mother's last night. Clary threw a fit because it was thundering and lightning out and she didn't want to sleep alone in her room.

"Please don't go, I'm scared, stay with me," She begged her mother. Wordlessly her mother laid down next to her in the bed and wrapped her arms around Clary. Clary knew her father would be mad at mommy for staying with her but she didn't care. She was scared and daddy could get over it, what was the worst her can do really? She looked up into her mother's face and knew she was asking herself the same thing.

Although we both lie close together, we feel miles apart inside

Clary knew mommy wouldn't tell her if she was scared or any of the things daddy did to her. But Clary still knew it was happening she would sit outside their door or in the vent above the room and listen to them fight. Her father was always the one to get violent. He'd slap her mother and constantly tell her he knew what he was doing and to not get in the way. She often thought about what would happen if she ran in and tried to stop the fighting, but she was too afraid to do anything other than listen.

Was it something I did or something I said?

Daddy came barging into the room. He practically ripped Clary's mother from the bed. Clary frantically climbed backwards on the bed bringing her knees up to her chest, her back now against the backboard of the bed. He hit her mother with the back of his fist, making Jocelyn's head snap to the side, facing Clary. Clary saw the blood in her mother's mouth and cried out.

"Stop, please stop, you're hurting her!" tears forming in her eyes. Her mother looked at her and held a finger up to her mouth, signaling to be quiet.

Did my words not come out right?

He didn't listen, he never did. He reached into his pocket and Clary knew what was going to happen before it did. Her father took out his stele and held it in the air, like a victory flag.

"Don't!" Clary cried.

Though I tried not to hurt you,

Thoughts ran through Clary's mind so fast she didn't know what to do. She considered throwing herself in front of the blade but she couldn't get herself to move. Her body wasn't listening.

Though I tried…

Clary watched as her father's hand came down and slashed her mother across the neck. She watched her mother fall. Her father stood above the body holding the scarlet dripping stele in the air. He looked over at Clary. Clary gasped at the sight, her father's eyes where black, cold, and detached. It was like there was something terrible and cold living inside her father. He wasn't always like this she remembered he used to be so nice. The bestest daddy ever. He gave her piggyback rides when they walked somewhere and took her to the circus, and to central park to watch the fairies dance around the lake. She often wondered in the days before this night, what happened to him, was he gone?

But I guess that's why they say…

Her father stared at her and then back at her mother before backing out of the room and closing the door behind him. Calling out to someone in the hall to 'clean up the mess' in the room. I guess so.

Every Rose has its Thorn….

Clary crawled off the bed and across the room to her mother, cold and limp on the ground. She shook with silent sobs, trying to stay quiet in case he came back. The door opened and Clary was too afraid to look up. Kill me, please kill me too. Arms grabbed her and she was being taken out of the room by Michael Wayland, who she had known for a long time. He was one of daddy's friends. He took Clary out of the room and out onto the balcony, where Clary stayed, long after Michael left and she saw someone throwing a black garbage bag out into a garbage can, lighting it on fire. She sat there for hours; unmoving staring out at the sky and occasionally at the pile of ashes she knew was her mother.

Just like every night has its dawn.

The sun started to peek through the far away trees and she realized the night has passed and she had to move, and continue on, because no one was going to wait for her.

Just like every cowboy sings a sad, sad song.

She went inside and her father approached her with a man she had never seen before, her father introduced him as Hodge. They lead Clary to the training room where they made her train for hours. She watched her father whenever she could, sneaking peeks up at him. The same emotionless expression never leaving his face. It was like he never cared at all.

Every Rose has its Thorn.

Authors Note: Please tell me what you think and whether or not I should continue it. Jace is going to have some deep rooted problems as well, they're both broken, and soon they realize that only together are they truly whole. =)