AN: This is the first Fanfiction we have posted on this account. By WE, we mean there are two people who write this story

Tilly: Who helps with the plot and is the AMAZING editor!

Charli: Who writes the story, helps with plot and does a rough edit.

We would appreciate the instructive criticism, but no negative or hateful comments please!

Disclaimer: Sad enough we have not gone on a spy mission yet to steal the characters from Cassandra Clare, we have been too busy fangirling. SOOOOO that means….(drumroll please)…. We do not own the characters, we only own the plot line!

Summary:

Valentine, everyone thought he was dead but in reality he is still running the circle. Jocelyn and Clary keep this a secret because he is threatening to end the others life. She is brutally abused by him and her brother; she takes the brunt of the beating to keep Jocelyn safe. Clary goes to school, she is bullied and everyone hates her but secretly admires her Shadowhunter skills and feel intimidated by her. Jace hates Clary with all his might because his father dies in one of the circles battles and his mother commits suicide. But when happens when these two are partnered together in a competition. Will love rise out of hate or will everything fall.

Clary P.O.V:

It starts off like this every day. 5,840 days since it has been, 192 months since my birth, this adds up to sixteen years. For sixteen years I have lived in the same hell-hole, every day, every hour and every minute of my life seems to be useless. I see no point to live if you have to live a lie. I want to refrain my life and exchange it for another. My father- Valentine is an evil and sick man, everyone thinks he is dead; except for those who are loyal to him, those who participate in the circle. He acted his own death because all the clave wanted was for him to have an un-beating heart, so he pretended. The clave rejoiced, but I did not because from there on I only knew torcher and pain and how to survive it.

Blood caked the side of my head like a second layer of skin, I wish I was unconscious- I really did, but I wasn't. Then his leg slowly departed from my blood stained stomach and I let something out of my mouth which was a mixture between a groan and a growl. Valentine must of heard while he continued his abusive ways. And once he did he looked at me with such an intense anger that I almost whimpered and cowered up against the wall. But I didn't, I didn't because I was a Shadowhunter. I set my jaw stubbornly and then Valentine just took a deep breath and looked controlled and calm. But I knew better than that, this was when Valentine's abusive side was at his finest. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, the blood was as almost as vibrant as my natural hair colour. He used my hair to control the movement of my head and sharply brought my ear up to his mouth. "Clarissa you have to remember I have the power to influence anyone and kill anyone; and that young lady includes your mother if you keep this behaviour up." I froze, unable to move; my mother- the only person I had left.

She once loved him; I don't know how she loved the monster. He was once beautiful sweet, charming and funny; he was everything a girl wanted, well that's what my mother had told me. But I couldn't believe that having the circumstances I had now. I did the worst thing I could've done in this situation, I punched him back. I hit him so hard, my head started to pound, my knuckles stung and tears welted in my eyes. I'd socked him in the nose, he looked at me- enraged which didn't help with the look of blood gushing like flood gates out of his nose. That was it, I tried to wriggle out of his deadly gasp, and my fingernails were scraping the tiled floor as he dragged me in like I was bait. My fingers were rare and bleeding and peeling off as I tried to escape, I knew I had to. I was the best Shadowhunter of my generation but I could not stand up to him. Because he was my blood, my father and I loved him; as much as I despised myself for saying that. But it was true and it still was even when his hands wrapped around my neck and left imprints. Even when I tried to pry them away even though I couldn't; even when I screamed bloody murder. And even when I went into a deep unconscious sleep.

I woke up, stick and crusted blood had moulded around my body, it wasn't just mine; it was his. For a second a felt a moment of triumph, until I remembered Valentine's dirty hands enclosing on my neck. I peeled my body off the tiled floor and grabbed the bleach and cloth, scrubbing the floor to a stainless clean and pearly white tiles, it didn't look as if a girl had been violated by her father right there. I put it back into the cleaning cabinet and walked up to my bedroom; I could still hear my father's merciless snarls and insults which told me I was worthless.

And in my bedroom was Jonathan- my brother, my heart thudded so hard I swore it was trying to escape my rib cage, he quirked an eyebrow and smirked; I immediately took to steps backwards and landed into the wall. "What do you want" I commanded, my voice not quavering once, I was proud of that but had been trained to do it. He smirked at me again and grabbed my hands and I knew instantly by the gleam in his eyes that this was not brotherly affection; this was something more, much, much worse. Jonathan shut the door and pulled me closer to him, I kicked him in the shins with all my force and he's knees gave weight and he sagged to the ground, stifling a groan. I was in battle mode, which meant time slowed down and I could have time to think as if answering a question, as if it were a game and it only took me once second. I tried to open the door,

Oh

My

God

It was locked; Jonathan gave me an evil grin. I screamed and pounded the door with every ounce of my strength. I considered bolting it down, I knew I could do it, but before I could, I was pinned up against the wall. Jonathan gripped my chin and forced me to look into his eyes, smiling like a maniac. And he forced his lips onto mine, I screamed in his mouth which vibrated on the rooves of his mouth. He shoved me blindly into a wall, I didn't want this; I felt wrong and I felt dirty as if I were covered in grime. He had his hands skim my sides roughly. I didn't want this, I didn't want this, I didn't want this; blind panic and terror came at me. I bit his lip, hard. So hard that blood from his mouth poured into mine. I spat it out in disgust and flung my fist in perfect striking range at him, it hit him and he stumbled. Blood sprayed onto the ground in tiny little droplets, he gurgled on it when he tried to growl. I wanted him to choke on it; he was in the spot where I wanted him to be. Perfect. I put my hands on his shoulders and kneed him right where it hurt. I was in such a foul mood, I didn't care if he couldn't reproduce, hell I didn't think the world wanted small Jonathans running around, -I certainly didn't- so I guess I was doing the world a favour. I kicked the door with such force it snapped in half, literally. The wood chips flew around the room and brushed past me, making me bleed and sting as if droplets of acid has just fallen delicately onto my skin. I felt so wrong, so uncomfortable, I felt dirty and exposed and vulnerable. I walked down the stairs not bothering to quiet and once I hit the ground I just ran flat out, I sprinted as fast as my legs could take me. I had to make it away from the house, I had to.

I could see Valentine's face in my memory, a look of stealth in his eyes, silver hair and matching his eyes, he had a strong build up and the mask of a warrior. Jonathan was purely the replicate of my father, he was just the younger version- he had the hair, the eyes, the narrow cheekbones I envy, the perfect eyebrows, the build-up and the look of disapproval etched in his face. Then Jocelyn my mother- she was once beautiful- extremely beautiful- the kind of beautiful guys fawned over. She was still beautiful today, she still had the curves of a woman, she still had her wavy vibrant red hair and the emerald piercing green eyes which matched mine, and the youthful face covered with small amounts of makeup, but she had that haunted look in her eyes. It made you think she was dead to you in a way. As if her past was so tragic you would fear she would never utter another word again.

I was still running my breaths and pants became laboured, my clothes were torn, I had blood running in small trickles around my body, my forehead and neck shining with sweat. I still had a blade on me, I always carried one around; but this was the middle of Idris, I thought I was safe although I knew I wasn't. Tears were running down my face unable to stop they were fogging up my sight. My body then collided into a rock hard chest, also shining with sweat; his torso especially, I averted my eyes away. He had smoky golden hair that was tousled with sweat and gorgeous golden eyes that glistened in the sunlight, he looked like a god. I got up and went to run, but the boy got a grip on my wrist, reeling me back to him. "Hey" said a gentle kind and soothing voice, I tensed, I knew him and he knew me. "I'm sorry I hope I didn't hurt you." The voice was so kind, but he hadn't seen my face yet, as soon as he would his voice would be filled with venom. "My name's Jace" he said kindly and soothing in a way, "did I hurt you?" He asked, I know you! My mind screamed, I know you and you hate me! I didn't want to turn around but he spun me around and saw my face. His mouth agape but he recovered quickly a sneer crossing his face. He smirked when he saw my tears, "what's wrong Fray or may I say Morgenstern?" He taunted, he pushed me to the ground. The previous cut on my wrist reopened and he generally grinned. "You're on the ground you piece of filth" he said spitefully, each word cut me open like a knife. "Right where you belong."

I got up and ran, no I was sprinting to the place I hated most in the world, home. The world span and when I opened the door I saw my mother on the ground, cuts all over her body bleeding profoundly, the blood was as red as fire and trickled through the cracks of the tiles. Tears were rolling silently down her cheeks and on her face was the readable emotion which told you she wished she was dead. I walked over to her like walking over to a wounded deer forgetting about all my problems and focused on hers. When she saw me I swore her eyes lighted up a small fraction. A smashed beer bottle lay next to her, I already knew what would have happened- Valentine smashed open a beer bottle and cut almost every inch of her soulless body. It wasn't the first time this had happened not to her or me. I helped her up and walked her into our bathroom, the not so luxurious one, for the 'ladies'. The bath was filled with hot steaming water and my mother undressed, I was not fazed by her naked body I was more fazed by her cut skin. She hissed when she stepped in but I pushed her into the water watching blood seep from her cuts and bubbly water heal it. The water had turned to a dull red. "Why?" I asked, knowing Valentine did not hurt my mother without a reason, he only did that only to me. "I stood up for you and told Valentine he had no right to do what he did." She said tears brimming in her eyes, "mother" I said in a gentle tone as if comforting a mentally unstable child. "I can look after myself you know I can." I said soothingly, the tears spilled over her face "I know" she said "I know."

Later that night my fists were clenched by my sides as Jonathan walked past me, Valentine and Jonathan looked at me as if I were a ticking time bomb. They knew I was not afraid of them and I wouldn't be any time soon but they would force me to be obedient for my mother's life. I was held hostage in this hell hole and my life was a nightmare and right before I went to bed I looked into the mirror and noticed something; my eyes had a distant look to them. I was horrified.

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If you like this story please have a look at some of Charli's stories on her account, mywish21

Love MangoRebels xoxoxoxo