'Cause there's a place in the sun where there's hope for ev'ry one,
where my poor restless heart's gotta run.
Theres' a place in the sun and before my life is done,
Got to find me a place in the sun.
-A Place in the Sun; by Stevie Wonder
2 Years Prior
The screeching of sirens filled Her ears, causing Her to turn Her head slightly. Policemen and firemen. Typical. Considering the size of the flames, however, it only made sense they'd be called. But still...part of Her wanted to stop them; She wanted to keep watching the fire, to see it all burn. After everything She'd endured, the last thing She wanted was for any kind of interference.
When She saw the flickering lights of the firetrucks and cop cars, She turned herself invisible, though She did turn to face them head-on. With a scowl forming on Her face, She threw out enough telekinetic energy to cause the vehicles to crash. Some of them flipped over, a few rolled a couple times before stopping. Turning her attention back to the flames, She sent out enough energy to increase its power. Nothing could remain. Not a trace from the building She used to occupy, not even a trace of anyone inside. Her eyes flickered downward for a moment. What of the policemen and firemen? If any of them survived, that would spell trouble. Turning to face the wrecked vehicles again, She snickered when She caused them to burst into flames. Were those screams She heard over the fire? She couldn't tell, nor did She care.
The only thing that mattered was getting rid of every single piece of evidence of Her old life.
Present Day
Nights were the worst for Clary.* She'd lie awake in bed until the early hours of the morning, her eyes burning from exhaustion. Clary's mind would wander to these different places, recalling all the things she'd done. It wasn't easy. It was painful, having to relive those moments over and over again, as if it were in a constant loop. Anyone in their right mind would be losing sleep over stuff like that. Remembering the smell of the smoke and the sounds the fire made...it wasn't an easy pill to swallow. On more than one occasion, Clary had attempted to take her own life, but it wasn't something that could be done so easily. For every suicide attempt, She would stop it. Clary's body was Her body, too; they shared the same mind, which meant She could take control whenever She wanted. But She couldn't, She was too dangerous. She was once part of Clary's consciousness, split off at a young age to "protect Clary" from everything she endured growing up. That "protection" was slaughtering anyone who even remotely seemed threatening.
Closing her eyes, the teen took a deep breath, hoping to at least stop herself from going down that route. Just thinking about Her sent chills down Clary's spine. Her other self — her other consciousness — fed off fear, seemingly getting more power form it. Not only that, but just thinking about Her, even for a second, seemed to stir Her from the deepest recesses of Clary's mind. For Clary, it took her a long time to regain control of her mind and body, to feel like herself again. She had to put up strong mental barriers to keep Her at bay, which was why Clary had to be very careful with how she thought and how she felt.
"(One of these days, I'll break free. You can't hold me forever)," She whispered. "(And once I do, everything will burn, just like last time)."
Clary's eyes shot open. Please, please, please no, she thought. She can't be contacting me...not now...
Tears formed in Clary's eyes, her breathing becoming labored. Was She trying to instill fear, in hopes of getting strong enough to escape? Of course. That was what She was good at, instilling fear. Thankfully, She's not managed to escape Clary's barriers, at least, not at full force. Small parts of Her slip through the cracks, infecting Clary, clouding her mind. The barriers weren't as strong as they used to be, they were slowly disintegrating, which was why She could send out only small portions of Herself. Clary was doing everything her power to keep those barriers up, but she wasn't as strong as she would've liked.
You'll need to figure out a way to fix the barriers, she though solemnly. More of Her is starting to slip through, which means She will manage to get out one day.
Swallowing thickly, Clary did her best to calm herself down. Quickly wiping the tears from her eyes, she let out a deep breath. She had to maintain a calm demeanor, she had to. She'd figure out a way to fix the barriers and stop Her from coming out. Clary couldn't lose herself, not again.
Clary owed herself that much, right?
-O-
Clary had been born Clarissa Alexander-Valentine. She'd been put into foster care as an infant, so she had no knowledge on who her birth parents were. All she knew was that she had weird abilities that no one could explain. Every foster home Clary had been sent to, for as long as she could remember, she'd always be sent back because she was "too difficult to handle". A watered down version of saying the families didn't want someone as freakish as her. As Clary got older, after being sent back and forth between foster houses and the system, she started to think that maybe she was better off alone. Her biological parents didn't want her, the families she'd been sent to didn't want her — her conclusion was that no one wanted her.
It was around that time that She started forming, Her whispers filling Clary's head. That was all it was at the time, whispers. Too quiet for Clary to hear anything, so she didn't think too much of it. There were already so many things about her that were weird, unintelligible whispers didn't even make it to the top of her list. Then Clary was sent to what felt like her millionth foster home, only it was different than the other ones. The supposed couple who'd be housing her seemed too forced, as if they were trying to hard to make things normal for her. The mother was too sweet, almost sickeningly so. The father seemed too...distant. He tried getting involved but Clary could tell that he wasn't emotionally there. And when Clary saw their interactions together, that made her more than uncomfortable. The couple seemed like robots, going through the motions so automatically it didn't even look right. The couple never touched, they never stood close to each other, never spoke to each other unless it was necessary. There always seemed to be about two feet of space between them, no matter what.
Clary tried to keep herself away from them, afraid that she might do something to set them off. The last thing she wanted was to be sent back into foster care. She hated it there. Almost as much as she hated being sent to families. So Clary's plan was to keep to herself, never interact with the foster parents unless absolutely necessary, keep her abilities on the down low. It didn't work out that way, sadly. The reason her foster parents were acting so strangely was because they weren't actually married to begin with — they didn't even know each other. Clary had to find out that the people who took her into their home were working for someone else, that they'd be partially responsible for her downward spiral. The main culprit for Clary's decline was a man who took sick pleasure in putting her through extraordinary physical and mental pain. A man who was interested in Clary's background, even if she didn't know what that was.
(A/N):
Sorry for the wait on this chapter, and sorry it's so poorly written. I had this idea in my head, and it honestly seemed better in my head. Hopefully, though, some of you like this chapter. If you've got constructive criticism, don't hesitate to let me know. I'd appreciate your thoughts.
Nothing in the DP fandom belongs to me, all I own are my OCs and the subplots I put in.
In certain moments in the story, if you see something "(written like this)," that's Clary's separate consciousness talking to her. Bold + italicize, that's how you'll know. I'll get more into Clary's background as the story progresses, but if you've got ideas on who her parents might be, etc., etc., etc., don't hesitate to let me know. PM me or leave a review.
As for Clary's character, I kinda got inspiration for her from Marvel's Jean Grey (both as the Phoenix and as herself), only because I thought Jean's character was interesting. I hopefully won't have Clary be word-for-word like Jean Grey, but I'm just letting you guys know that's where I got the inspiration.
This is also separate from my DEAD GIRL WALKING story.
On that note, I'll wrap up this author's note.
Leave thoughts on how I can improve.
Have a happy (and safe) New Year!
Thanks.
Vienna Lane