Hey everyone!

Clacecrazy here!

Here is my new fanfiction, I decided to start with the unfamiliar character, who probably came out pretty mysterious in my summary ;) uh?

Well, here it is, and by the way I love reviews... *heart* I hope you like writing them as much as I like getting them...

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story. It's all Cassandra Clare's, not mine, except maybe Jasmine, but since slavery ended a long time ago, and she might take offense to the prospect of me owning her, I own nothing. Trust me I'm sad too.

Jasmine

The tile was cold on my bare feet and shocked me awake with every step. The house was quiet. Duh Jazzy, I teased myself. You've been living alone for a month now. I sighed. Of course, but I should be used to it by now. Right?

Grabbing a water bottle from my stainless steel fridge, I sat down behind my counter on the barstool. Its fabric was cool on my bare thighs when my neon green pajama shorts rode up from my sitting down. Adjusting my white camisole, I popped off the lid on my bottle and it rolled away across the counter and fell to the floor.

Sighing, I left my hand around my water as I bent down to get it. Angling myself to grab it, my hand on the bottle went angled as well, just a bit too much. I felt slimy liquid run down my arm and into my shirt, soaking me and my clothes thoroughly. It dripped off me and still out of the bottle, and began to pool on my floor. Feeling a tad frustrated, I fell back into it and let my backside soak some of it in.

Forgetting the bottle yet again, which unfortunately, was still half full, its contents came down in a flood on my face. I choked and sputtered, feeling foolish. Crushing the water bottle in my hands and cursing Ice Mountain for manufacturing such rebellious plastic, I threw it into the trash can. It did not deserve to be recycled. Dusting off my hands with just a small amount of satisfaction, I forgot the water on my tile floor and stepped in it before I could completely restore my dignity. My foot slid forward without me, and suddenly my legs were no longer underneath me.

I groaned in my airborne second, and waving my arms wildly, I landed once again, on my back, in the middle of my kitchen floor. Maybe I wasn't cut out for living alone. I couldn't even take a water bottle without ending up gasping and sore, lying on my back.

But being 27, and long out of school, when I lived back home, I was single and staying with my parents, unemployed. At 23, I had gotten married, with a beautiful house, and a wonderful job, and a smart, amazing husband, but nothing had lasted. I shook my head, ending those thoughts before they could consume me. Instead I thought of my parents. They hadn't exactly fallen into a depression or gotten on their knees and begged me to stay when I had announced my news, but they were not pleased I planned on moving halfway across the country. Nothing was holding me back, and I wanted some place it would be easy to get up and leave again. Oh right, and some place it wouldn't be hard to protect myself from stalking murderers, or creepy men who wanted me in their bed.

But also, I wanted to meet Mr. Right. I'd had semi-serious boyfriends before, but none of them had wanted to stick around. There was always an excuse, someone else, or afraid of commitment. It was never my fault, they would say. You're so beautiful Jaz, they would tell me as they left to go see their other girlfriend. But it felt nice, to at least have something they appreciated. Sadly, that made me a toy, something to only look at. But it was weird to think about, because honestly, I didn't see the appeal. Sure, I wasn't bad looking, but with my Egyptian origin, I was all black hair, black eyes, and dark brown skin. So dark, that I just didn't stand out. I wanted my Mr. Right to look past that. I wanted him to love me for my personality. But alas, it hadn't struck anyone so far.

Partially, okay mostly, my quest for Mr. Right was what put me in New York. It was just so romantic, I couldn't pass it up. Duh, I know, ITALY JASMINE, but also duh, I don't exactly have that kind of money.

On the other hand, I had HAD my Mr. Right. But he was gone. And I was alone. Closing my eyes, I thought about just staying there on my floor and maybe catching a nap, but I knew I'd be late for work then, and of course, get in trouble with my unyielding boss. With just a groan, I carefully stood up, and rubbing my sore back, I fetched the dishtowel. Deliberately, I sat down to clean it up, and showed the floor my surrender.

Finishing my very careless sponging job, I flung the dishtowel onto my counter and trudged up the creaking but shiny wooden stairs, bracing the railing for a fall. I had accepted that this was not my morning. Reaching the top, I finally exhaled and bounced into the bathroom and went for the shower.

"Ow!" I muttered landing on my butt, when I ran into the frosted glass door of my cubicle like shower. (After I opened the door, of course), I threw my clothes over the top, and was very careful in placing my feet when the water came down on me. I fell just a whopping total of two times, and was only smidge proud as I stepped out onto my rug and wrapped myself in a downy towel.

So now that I've finally written a couple fanfictions, I know how fun it is to get reviews, so please?

It won't take too much time!

See I'm even begging you! I'm legit on my knees right now!

With love,

Clacecrazy

P.S. Jordan gets the next chapter. Then they will share... teehee...