HELLO SHADOWHUNTERS/DOWNWORLDERS/DEMONS. This will be my second TMI fic, and I already prefer it to my first one.
If you're reading this, hi, you're awesome. I hope you like this enough to follow, fav and review(a lot ;)). If you don't, okay, this is completely to rid myself of my own boredom and try to improve my boredom.
WARNING: The updates will be slow. Sometimes very slow, sometimes a little more quickly. Mostly because I have school and it kills me. Another warning: there will be mentions of violence and self harm in this story, so if you don't like reading that stuff, or it offends you I greatly apologize and don't recommend reading it at all.
DISCLAIMER: I obviously don't own TMI :(
~Curved Lines~
Songs for chapter:
Bastille~Pompeii
Ellie Goulding~Explosions
OneRepublic~All Fall Down
\\Chapter One\\
When you look at the desktop on your computer, there is a background and whatever shortcuts you have. There is no paragraph of writing, not even a line, that you can highlight. Instead, when you click the mouse, and you drag it, it makes a box.
It makes a blue highlight box, or a blue line, depending on what way you drag it. But no matter which way you move that mouse, it will make a perfectly straight line, or a box with perfectly straight edges. No matter what, it will be definite, straight lines.
If you move the box in an arc over and back, the box will move side to side. If you swing it around in circles, the box will move in circles, going in and out, smaller and larger. No matter how curved of a direction you drag that mouse in, it will not curve the line.
The only lines you can make on the desktop of your computer, are perfectly, definitely, straight. There are no curved lines, they just won't appear. This is the exact opposite of life.
When you look at the palm of your hand, all the lines are curved, scattered about in an erratic pattern. The line known as your life line is curved.
This makes complete sense. Life is full of curved lines. Everyone has a path, which they make themselves. No life is set out, planned in a definite structure from the moment you're born. The little decisions you make with every breath curve the path of your life, and it changes constantly.
In Paper Towns, Quentin Jacobsen believes everyone gets one miracle in life. But I believe everyone gets at least two miracles, everyday. It's a miracle when you wake up in the morning, and it's a miracle when you go back to sleep, because you've survived the day.
Anything can happen during those few hours you have to survive for, and one thing can throw you completely off track. Any little decision can curve your life off the path it was on just the second before.
So look at your computer, move your mouse. Then look at your palm. Then compare them to your life. If you can't seem to do that, maybe this story will help you.
This story is about two people, whose lives went in very curved lines. It will show how one tragic moment can make your life collapse, before another can make it explode into something better than it ever was before. It will show how two life lines can curve together, throwing you completely off track, while also making your life more definite than anything else ever could.
This story, is Curved Lines.
Clary POV
I huffed out a breath as I left my last class of the day. I twisted around the corner, speed-walking to my locker because I wanted nothing more than to get out of here, and go home. I really wanted to go home.
I felt a presence beside me and I smiled as Kaelie looped her arm through mine. She smiled mischievously down at me, wiggling her eyebrows. "Okay bestie, I'm bored. We need to go boy shopping and we need to go soon. Saturday?"
I rolled my eyes at my best friend. 'Boy shopping' involved us going to the mall with her mammoth purse of credit cards while she looked out for any 'hot boys' that she could have her fun with. "What happened to Raphael?"
She rolled her eyes, patting my shoulder sadly. "I told you this Clary." I looked at her questioningly. "I'm bored," she said slowly.
I nodded, sighing. "When did you dump him?"
"Last period," she shrugged.
I pursed my lips, shaking my head. "You're never going to stop, are you?"
"I let them down easy," she defended. Her eyes traveled to something ahead of us and a smirk curved her lips. "Besides, I still haven't got to that one."
My eyes followed the direction of her gaze until I found...my brother. I groaned. "Yeah, and you're not going to either. You are never going to mess around with my brother. Just, no. Gross," I whined, wrinkling my nose.
She made a noise, mock offended. "But who could you want to be with your brother more than your best friend?" I looked at her blankly and she rolled her eyes. "What if I already have been with him?" She smiled smugly down at me.
I stopped in my tracks, narrowing my eyes as I studied her carefully. Her smug smile was stuck on firmly, but her eyes were laughing. I barked a laugh, shaking my head. "Never gonna happen."
She rolled her eyes again, tugging my arm to make me resume walking. I let her drag me along, only half paying attention as she told me every tiny detail of her breakup with her latest fling. I tuned her out completely when I caught a glimpse of gold. Jace Herondale.
I huffed as I looked at the school's best known badboy. When put like that, it makes it seem like he's the cliche type, the one that gets into the most fights and dates the most girls. Although he was known for his more-than-good fighting skills, he never talked to, never mind dated, anyone.
He was the school's very own Boo Radley. He never let anyone get anywhere close to him, blocked out anyone who tried. It made the female population more than a little frustrated.
Jace was hot, that was an obvious fact. His golden mane of hair and gilt, catlike eyes, he was like a lion. His dark expression only added to the effect. His strong physique was only ever obvious in P.E., as that was the only time he ever appeared without his beloved leather jacket. Although I was pretty sure everyone had already guessed.
The only thing any of us knew about Jace Herondale was that he was adopted, and actually showed his adoptive siblings, Alec and Isabelle Lightwood, more than a facade. No matter how hard, or how many times I tried to figure him out, I got nowhere. Everyone else, I could figure out in a second. It just frustrated me that he was so... closed.
I was brought out of my thoughts as Kaelie suddenly stopped, and I realized we were at my locker. I also realized that Jace was gone, along with almost everyone else.
Kaelie let go of my arm, fluffling her long, platinum blonde hair. "Alright babe, we're on for Saturday, yeah? I'll tell Seelie too, and I'll call you later."
I blinked as she waved and walked past me. I spun around to look after her as my eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, Kaelie, I didn't–"
"Bye Clare!" She cut me off, holding her hand up in the air and waving it once.
I blew out a breath, shaking my head and turning to my locker. I exchanged my books quickly before closing the locker with a slam, throwing my bag over my shoulder. I made my way out of the school, grateful that it wasn't raining. I hated walking home, but I hated walking home with my jeans and sweater sticking to me more.
It was a little less horrible that the house was close, only about a ten minute walk from the school. I spent the ten minutes shivering, silently scolding myself for not wearing a jacket. I sighed in relief as my house came into view, tempted to run the rest of the way. After taking a quick glance around, I did allow myself to break into a light jog.
I reached my house to find the door open. Although it was only open about an inch, and you couldn't see it unless you were right in front of it, it was still open.
I pushed it open cautiously, pursing my lips as I stepped over the threshold. I walked into the hallway only to wish I had stayed outside.
I covered my mouth as I violent sob left me and my eyes widened at the sight hanging in front of me.
Both my parents were there, hanging from the chandelier by what looked to be belts. The rough material dug into their necks, making the area around it a deep shade of purple.
Their eyes were open and lifeless as their bodies swung slightly, and I suddenly thought the belts were going to break. There were no other visible marks on their bodies except for one lone cut running from my mother's eyebrow to her cheekbone. Her usually bright green eyes were so dull.
I let out more sobs as tears streamed from my eyes, viciously shaking my head and telling myself to wake up. This had to be a nightmare. It couldn't be real. They hadn't killed themselves, they wouldn't, especially not like this. It was a nightmare where my parents had been killed.
My world was ending right in front of me. I suddenly wished the roof would fall in on me, or a gaping black hole would open the ground under me, sucking me in. Memories of them flashed before my eyes. All the holidays, family dinners, Christmases, all the good and the bad times were playing in my head like a home video. Why was this happening?
I heard a crash, and I did the stupidest thing I've done in my entire life.
I screamed.
Jace POV
I strolled to my bike carelessly, more than a little pissed at my siblings. Alec was the source of the problem—he had left something at Morgenstern's, and I had to go get it. Izzy was apparently 'busy,' meaning she just really didn't care because she knew I would cave.
Alec had football practice, meaning he actually was busy, and I had no choice but to give in to his nagging. I huffed, lifting my helmet and swinging a leg over the seat. My bike was my baby, it was the only source of freedom I had. I don't think I'd ever be able to afford a car, so I protected my bike with my life. Which was kind of pointless because if I was dead I wouldn't need it and—never mind.
I kicked down the pedal, grinning as it thrummed to life beneath me. The drive to the Morgenstern's was short and I prayed that there was nobody home. Valentine Morgenstern was not a man I particularly wanted to encounter, but I guess I wouldn't mind having to be in the presence of Mrs. Fray. I was hoping it would only take me a few minutes anyway.
It was really weird, the whole last name thing. I guess Jocelyn just wanted to keep her maiden name. But then Jonathan used Morgenstern and Clary used Fray. It was just weird.
Jonathan had football practice, but Clary, well she would most likely be at home. I'd rather run into Valentine.
The thing about Clarissa Fray was that I just couldn't hate her. With every idiot in that school, I hated them, or I ignored them—I could shut them out. But there was something about Clary that I couldn't hate or ignore. There was also the fact that she was different—she didn't make rumours or shove her breasts in my face.
She also didn't try. She was polite when I ever had to talk to her, and she didn't make a damn fuss about it. She was interesting to me, and I didn't like that.
I shook my head to get rid of the thoughts as I pulled into the driveway. I pulled off my helmet, balancing it on the handlebars as I ran a hand through my hair. I sighed, slowly getting off my bike and making my way to the door. Which was open.
I frowned. I had detention after school, Clary would have been home before I got here. She wouldn't have left the door open, would she? Maybe someone came out to get something? Well, that was stupid because there was no one out here, and they still would have closed the door.
I shook my head, deciding to just go in and stop standing there like an idiot. A coppery smell hit me as soon as I stepped through the door and I flinched. The smell was all too familiar to me, and I had to hold my breath to stop myself from gagging.
I inched my way inside, not wanting to have to see the source of the smell, but at the same time praying that no one was hurt, and knowing I'd want to help if they were. I turned into the main hall, and felt my blood run cold.
"Oh, God, no, please no," I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. I shook my head rapidly as the memories threatened to come screaming back, the images just on the fringes of my mind, his screams and their laughter ringing in my ears. I forced them away, hesitantly opening my eyes, hoping to find my ceiling above me and my bed underneath me.
But the horrifying image was still there. Valentine and Jocelyn had been killed, and hung from their own chandelier in their own hallway. My breath left me, lips parting in sorrow as I thought about what this would do to Jonathan and Clary.
Oh god, Clary. Where was she? She mustn't have went straight home, maybe she stayed for her brother at practice or maybe she went to her friend's house or something. School ended like an hour ago, she couldn't be here.
Football practice didn't end for about another forty five minutes, I'd have to wait outside or something to make sure Jonathan didn't have to see this. I nodded to myself, about to go do that when I heard a small whimpering sound behind me. Then again. Then again, and again.
I whirled around to see Clary curled up in the corner, crying quietly—wearing only a bra and underwear. I instinctively averted my eyes but realization immediately hit when I saw the fresh bruises littering her skin, blood leaving tainting marks and matting her hair.
"Shit," I breathed. I peeled off my jacket before pulling off my shirt and putting my jacket back on. I slowly made my way over to her, carefully kneeling down by her side.
"Clary," I said softly. She lifted her head from her hands, looking up at me with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. A lump formed in my throat as I took in her pained expression and I carefully held the shirt out to her. "Here, put this on."
She slowly took it with shaking hands, fumbling around with it. I shook my head, reaching out to take it back from her again. "Let me help." Her head shot back up to look at me and I smiled softly. I reached out again to gently pull the shirt over her head. She shakily put her arms through and I let it fall down her sides.
I suddenly realized she was still crying. I unconsciously reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, moving closer. "Are you okay?"
She shook her head slowly, then more quickly as her sniffles grew into sobs. "No." Her expression was so pained I couldn't stop myself from scooping her up in my arms and pulling her to me.
She complied wholly, clinging onto my jacket and burying her face in my neck. I lightly rubbed her back, my eyes flickering to her parents. I stood up, keeping Clary securely in my arms as I walked back out of the hall. I walked past the front door and into their living room.
I moved to set her down on the couch but her arms moved to wrap around my neck, holding on tightly. "Jace," her voice cracked. "Please stay with me."
I pursed my lips, feeling slightly out of my comfort zone. But it was because I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. I tightened my hold on her and I heard her let out a breath. "I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to. I'm right here."
I turned around to sit on the couch myself, keeping my arms around Clary as she curled up on my lap, resting her head on my chest. I frowned when I heard she was still crying quietly and I moved my hand to stroke her hair soothingly. "What happened Clary?"
She let out a sob. "I came here a-and the door was open. I just walked in and saw them, hanging there. There was a crash, and I screamed, and then they were there. There was two of them. I, I tried to run but they caught me and, they," she broke off, violent sobs racking through her small form.
I pulled her closer to me, resting my chin on the top of her head. "It's okay, you're okay, you're safe now. You don't have to say it."
She took a deep breath, shaking her head. "They—raped me. I couldn't do anything. I didn't, see their faces, I didn't see anything. I don't know who they are. I can't remember any of it Jace. I just remember seeing them running at me and then—nothing."
I nodded, the movement ruffling her hair. "That doesn't matter. As long as you're safe now." She leaned further into me in reply. "I should call the police," I realized suddenly. "God, I'm so stupid."
Clary shook her head. "You're not stupid. Thank you Jace."
I looked at her questioningly. "I didn't do anything."
She shook her head again. "You're here, and I—I feel safe. Thank you."
I smiled slightly. "You're welcome." I pulled my phone out, quickly dialing 911. A too chirpy lady on the other end of the line assured they'd be there in ten minutes. How are those people always so happy in these situations?
I rolled my eyes, about to shove my phone back in pocket when Clary's small hand shot out and circled my wrist.
"Jon," she said. I raised an eyebrow. "He can't see, this. He can't come home, Jace, you can't let him come in here," she pleaded with me, her eyes shining with more tears.
I nodded in realization, patting her arm reassuringly. "It's fine. I'll tell Alec to keep him away. Your brother won't even make it to the street until you want him to, I promise."
A tight smile fought its way to her lips. "Okay."
I typed in a vague text, but it was enough for Alec to know it was serious. With that thought, I realized how serious this was. I had just found two people dead. The image of their hanging bodies flashed in my mind and I shuddered, trying to force away the memories.
But they stayed at the forefront of my mind like ugly scars I couldn't get rid of, and as they played out for the millionth time, I started to shake. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears as my breathing started to get shallow.
I felt bile rise in my throat when I heard a small choking noise that immediately snapped me out of my haunting thoughts. I looked down to see Clary's cheeks stained with fresh tears, her small body shaking with pained sobs.
I looked at her sadly, having no idea how anything I could do could possibly comfort her right now. I tried anyway, gently stroking her hair and rubbing her back soothingly. I realized that she was actually trying to hold in her sobs and I shook my head disapprovingly.
"No, c'mon Clary, don't do that. Let it out, it's okay, it's just me. It's just me, don't cause yourself any more pain. It's okay to cry Clary." By the time I had finished my little speech she was sobbing freely, and I suddenly thought maybe that wasn't the best idea.
I shook that thought away when I saw her expression was now slightly less pained. But the pain was still very much there, and as I thought about what she would still have to go through from here, I couldn't help but lean down to press a featherlight kiss on the crown of her head.
She stared up at me and I gave her a gentle smile, wiping away her tears. She licked her lips before trying to speak, but it came out as a croak. She cleared her throat before trying again. "Are you okay?"
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Me? What do you mean?" Why in the world would she think she needed to ask me that question right now?
She shrugged slowly, choosing her next words carefully. "You're just so calm. It's like you've done this before or something."
I nodded, about to tell her when I snapped to my senses, my eyes going blank as I shut down, my expression stoic. "I just thought freaking out wouldn't be very helpful to you right now."
She flinched at my slightly harsh tone and I internally winced, but managed to keep my impassive mask. "Oh," she said quietly. "Thank you."
She was leaning away from me now, her expression empty and body deflated. I pursed my lips, wishing I wasn't such an idiot. "I'm sorry," I blurted quietly.
Her gaze snapped back to mine, looking up at me curiously. She slowly shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I should've known better than to ask you something like that. It's none of my business anyway, it's no one's but yours."
I opened my mouth before snapping it closed again. Usually, when someone said something like that, I replied with a bitter remark. It also didn't help that their expression was always one of pity. But with Clary, our expressions were of mutual apology, and the way she said it didn't make me feel bitter, but grateful.
I nodded slowly, pulling her back to my chest and lightly brushing my lips against her temple. It surprised her and myself every time I did that. I didn't understand why I kept feeling the need to kiss her, but I told myself it's because of the extreme situation and the fact that she needed the comfort right now.
That was definitely all it was. Uhuh.
I needed to stop thinking. Like right now. But that was kinda hard when her hands were resting on my bare chest, making the skin under them feel like fire. Besides, I couldn't exactly just up and leave her there alone, could I? I sighed frustratedly.
I blame Alec.
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