The dry sand crunches under my shoes as I slowly make my way to my house. The clouds seem so dark, full of rain. My thoughts slowly form, yet they are thoughts of

the past, of what has already happened. Thirteen years of my life gone by, yet the most significant has been the past two years. My mind suddenly slips and I am

once again back in the small countryside. The golden grass, and the blue sky; I can smell the clean morning air. That autumn day my life to an abrupt change for the

worst. I was there, sitting on the tall golden grass a few feet away from our tall white house. My surroundings seemed so desolated, and my house so dilapidated,

and yet the silence implied something offbeat. I could taste it in the air that I breathed in and the way time seem to have paused. Then the explosion, my eyes

turning to my house engulfed in dark angry flames that burned it to the ground. The earth shattering sound as a wave of heat hit me, pushing me back. I fall, scraping

my hands and legs, clutching the golden leaves as I close my eyes. I felt the piece of glass cut my neck and burnt sand and earth falling onto my face and even a small

dog barking in the distance. Unfortunately, I didn't pass out. I experienced every single minute of that moment. I lie there on the ground, smelling the lethal gas and

explosives in the air. Then I scream, as long and loud as I can because the memory of my parents in the house resurges in my mind. I never loved them, in fact I

hated them based upon my own insignificant theories, yet at that moment I screamed for them. I slowly scramble to my feel and run away from the smell and the

destruction; then I run back remembering my diary. I run into it, until I finally fall when hot burnt smithereens stab my foot. I lie there and cry into the dark grass. The

final thing I remember was my hands, how dark they were with the smoke, and how long my finger was.

A drop of rain fall onto my shoulder, it cools my skin. Today it has been unforgivably warm, and now finally the long anticipated rain. School left out a few days ago,

and now the summer holidays. I have been wondering the fields of the Ireland countryside. We live in New York, which was where my adopted parents are from. For

the holidays my parents brought me back home, my real home. I doesn't feel like that long ago, and they debated wither it was a good idea to bring me here or not. I

was prepared for the memories, and the experience. The houses came to sight as I made my way down the mud path. They were a small cluster of houses in the vast

countryside, near the farms, and fields of crops. I watched as I stepped into the muddy sand, watching my foot disappear for a second. I was wet, and yet it was a

good feeling, the sound of the rain drops hitting the puddles below made me want to dance away in the rain. I looked up, I always look up when it rained or snowed.

I looked as the rain poured onto my face, and kept my eyes open. "Clary, come inside now! Have you gone mad?" The insistent voice of my mother cut through the

rain. I blinked my eyes making out a think figure standing near the door clutching onto an umbrella. I sighed and ran towards the house, wondering if the mud will

make me fall, yet I make it inside. Ren is still holding onto the umbrella once she closes the door, walking up to me with a towel and pushing me down onto the

nearest chair. "Clary you should dry off quickly before you catch a cold, this weather is wonderful one minute and turns awful the next. The hair dryer is upstairs in the

third room." The warm towel smells like dried roses as I wipe my face dry, I wonder if Ren knew I would get caught in the rain. "Thanks Ren, I didn't mean to get

caught in the rain, but you know I like it, that's why I stayed out there a bit longer." My voice sounded overly excited, and Ren just nodded her head as she walked

back to the kitchen. "You should go up to your room and rest after all these hours of being out, I will bring up cookies and milk later."