Welcome to this lovely fanfiction. Apologies for the lack of TID characters – they'll come soon, I promise. Let me know if you want me to continue!

I've had this idea stuck in my head for ages and I ship Jem/OC so much its absurd….

Disclaimer: I don't own the TID characters. If I did, well, I wouldn't be writing this.

I never asked to become a Shadowhunter, to roam the earth ridding it of demons. That was never me.

I never asked for a life of insecurity, a life where even in the darkest of times stars could not shine.

But this window to a life of thrill was a miracle, and one does not question miracles, or complain that they are not constructed perfectly to one's liking.

I am Lucille Caritate Amare, and perhaps even my tragic life has its miracles.

It started with the yelling. Papa was drunk again. At times like this I felt as though I did not even know him. A calm ocean whipped into a violent storm. Tension suffocated the air. My sister, Adele, clutched at my hand, tears threatening to spill on her face.

Next came the screaming. Papa drew out his sword. Its sharpened tip glistened in the witchlight. Maman shrieked. Arms raised, she tried to shield her face from the attack.

Time seemed to slow down. Heartbeats pulsed and blood rushed through my ears. I ran forward, dragging Adele with me.

It was too late. The shining blade pierced through Maman's heart. Blood burst like a flowing waterfall of death.

I had failed her.

From a distance, I heard a scream. Was it mine? The world seemed so irrelevant, so far away. As I glanced into Papa's eyes, I no longer saw the visions of him swinging me in the park, or hear his laugh. That man was gone, replaced by the brutal murderer who saw the world in nothing but a blur amidst his drunken, abusive state.

And so, like a coward, I ran, Adele's screams muffled by her sobs.

We had no one left but each other now.

And as the sun set on the Amare Manor in Idris, the world seemed normal. How did the world continue to turn even though mine was shattered. It seemed as if no one except naïve Adele cared if I was alive.

I was angry and bitter. Angry at the world for shattering Adele's apart. Adele who was eight, and knew nothing about the world but tales of the faerie folk and mundane princesses from faraway lands.

For now, we would run. Run until our legs ached and our feet bled. Run until we found a safe place, wherever that may be.

In the shadows of the diminishing light, I never noticed the pair of glinting eyes following the two of us.

And…that's it! Sorry about the short length – once the plot fleshed out more chapters will be longer..well..hopefully…

Remember to never trust ducks! Bloodthirsty little beasts.

Until next time,

Ella Griffith Penrose