There was no worse a feeling than the feeling of replaceability. An endless void of nothingness. She looked around to see all of her friends living their lives, smiling, being the happiest they could be – without her. She heard their laughter, felt their joy all the while she watched, hidden in the shadows, imagining their lives without her in it.
Their smiles were so much brighter, their laughs were a song that the world didn't deserve to hear but she took that away by pulling them down to their lowest. Down to her level so that she wasn't lonely in this world filled with likes and followers. She did it to make herself feel better, but she was just a guilty heart in this production of memories.
Everyone knew that the world would move on.
Nothing stood still. Everyone moved on. They got on with life. Some tried to forget and ease the pain. Some tried to hold on through the memories. But the pain didn't fade; it became numb and replaceable. Along with her.
Its funny how life turned out. She was once so sure of her life. She knew what she had to d in life and she was prepared to do it or so she thought.
Clary fray was not your ordinary girl, with her humble looks and feisty attitude.
Clary never saw herself as the centre of attention, to be honest she hated it when people concentrated on her, asked her questions about her life. She hated it with all her being.
In elementary school the harsh 5th graders made her miserable. She often came running home pleading with her mom Jocelyn to dye and straighten her frizzy fiery crimson locks. But her mother taught her the hard truth that the world is full of cruel close-minded people who were ruled by their green-eyed monsters and tried to destroy those that were the monster's targets.
She cried in Jocelyn's arms till every inch of the midnight sky was covered in beaming stars, watching as a little naive girl became a woman with a lethal weapon that no guy could resist.
Everything changed that night. For better or for worse…
Suddenly the first day of high school arrived, Clary couldn't wait for the fresh start.
This is the start of the rest of my life. A clean slate. I can't wait. She thought.
Clary was torn away from her thoughts be a spontaneously rapid knock on the front door.
Clary's family wasn't rich, but they weren't poor either. Her mother Jocelyn worked in a clothing shop just three blocks from her house with Mrs. Lightwood (Maryse) earning enough money to pay the rent and fund their crazy art collection. Maryse was the mother to Clary's only female friend Isabelle. Isabelle was the only daughter of Maryse and Robert Lightwood, their little princess. Isabelle could do no wrong. Isabelle had been friends with Clary since 6th grade when Seelie Queen made a public display in the school's hall, allowing Clary a taste of the years of torment to come. Seelie publicly accused Clary of being the daughter of a man-whore, then poured a shockingly cold caramel iced frappe over her head, without another glance Seelie turned on her heel and sauntered of to her seat among the populars.
Clary ran to the girl's bathroom, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks leaving a trail of salt behind her. In the girl's bathroom was where Clary first met Isabelle. Isabelle comforted Clary in her time of need, cleaning the frappe out of Clary's hair and skipping the rest of the school day to know more about each other.
Since that day the pair had been inseparable, with the exception of Simon Lewis. Simon was Clary's best friend since forever. They met in kindergarten after 'the chocolate cake incident' and had been forever bonded since. Despite the new addition to their group and Clary's femininity, Simon and Clary were still very close.
'Hey Fray, you dressed in there?' Came Simon's soft voice through Clary's bedroom door.
Clary risked a glance at her reflection whilst replying with a shaky 'yes'.
She wasn't dressed in anything spectacularly, just some washed put ripped jeans, a black vest top and a red flannel shirt around her waist. Clay wasn't one for make-up, she rarely wore it. Only for special occasions, even then its was a touch of eye shadow, a brush of mascara and some lip gloss. For this occasion, Clary decided to wear her fiery locks in a piled up messy bun. Her hair was a mess with loose tendrils all over the place.
'Screw it. I guess I'll have to wear it down.' She finally gave up and loosened the hair tie letting her hair fall to the base of her spine. Clary despised her hair, but it was one of the traits she inherited from her mom, that and her talent for art, so -despite being eighteen on this day- she still had not dared dye hair famous red locks.
'Looking good, Fray. Think you're ready? Isabelle will meet us at school. Something about makeup, mascara, and murdering some brand. Come on.' Said Simon. It wasn't a surprise that Izzy wouldn't be riding with them, she could always ride with her brothers, but what was a surprise was the sudden pit of anxiety Clary felt growing in her stomach.
'Ready as I'll ever be' she replied and with that they left the house and ventured on the journey to high school completely oblivious to the changes that were headed their way…