Broken Pieces of Passion
Dear Jem,
It's freezing here in Alicante. I wonder what it's like in China. I hope all's okay. We miss you. Well, at least I do. I'm sorry I was so mad at you before you left. Forgive me?
Jace is paranoid about Jonathan these days. Says he had a dream about him. Which is bullshit, just like everything he says these days. I'm really getting worried. He's boiling from time to time, then he suddenly drops cold. I guess cold isn't as that bad. But him, hysteric, is awful. Because you know how I can be.
I just thought you'd be curious of how we're doing. And if you aren't, then, well I'm still writing you. Last week was horrible. Jace got really sick and I wanted Jon to take a look but he wouldn't let him. Like I said, Jace got really hysterical about him.
"Don't let him come closer, Clary, don't let him!" He wailed to me, sitting abruptly on the bed as beads of sweat came running down his forehead.
And what could I do? I got so frustrated that he wouldn't listen so I just kept swearing loudly as he threw a vase toward Jonathan.
"Ah, fuck it," yelled Jon, kicking the shreds of the broken vase. "I don't give a fuck if he dies or not."
"Please, Jon, at least take him to another doctor. He's boiling."
"Just give him some Tylenol and let it cool down," he said angrily, giving one last loathing look at Jace who was excitedly muttering nonsense.
Fortunately, I kept my frustration down and approached Jace carefully with a wet cloth in my hand.
"Jace," I said sternly. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, finally," he replied, sweating heavily. "So someone actually cares. The fuck, Clary? I told you not to let your brother get me."
"I never promised to let your hot, angry brain explode into pieces and tear you apart," I stated, pressing the cold material on his forehead. "Can you, for one second, stop acting like a child?"
"Me? A child?" Then, he suddenly grabbed my wrist, his eyes shining with madness. "I'm still stronger than you, Clary. Would you still call me a child?"
I tried to yank back my throbbing wrist, but his grip was like a metal.
"Let me go, you insane idiot!" I yelled, slapping him with my other hand.
His grasp loosened immediately as the shocked look took over his face.
"Ah, look at me. Slapped by my own girlfriend while dying. By the Angels, what have I ever done to deserve this? Oh, you!" His wild eyes suddenly bore into mine. "You were my sin, weren't you? God sent you to test me and I failed!"
Call me a lunatic, but I couldn't help but feel good about that. Feel good that he failed to resist me.
"Bullshit, Jace. All bullshit," I told him, but with a smile on my mouth.
.
That night, after taking a shower, I decided to relieve my stress with some whisky. Jon joined me on the sofa and we turned on the small TV. Kinda worried me, cause... You know what happens if you add alcohol to my brother.
"Fucking crazy," he muttered after a few minutes through the TV show. "Where's our dear daddy and mommy? Huh, Clarissa? Where do you think they're at?"
"Jon," I narrowed my eyes at him in a warning voice. "Shut up. I'm trying to watch the show."
"Because you don't know... What it's like to be a Jonathan Morgenstern. You," he pointed his index finger at me. "Cannot know."
"I'm ready to throw this glass toward you, Jon," I hissed through my teeth, knowing he's a completely drunk asshole. Because he is, Jem. He's been ruined by all the rage in his heart.
"I took care of you," he, though, started again. "I raised you through all the madness in this house, yet you bring in a lunatic into this house and treat me like shit!"
"And you, just like Jace, are being paranoid!" I finally screamed, stress erupting inside me. "Can't you make this any less harder for me?"
"How selfish you are, sister. Everything I do- it's for you. Everything you do- it's for Jace or for yourself. Now where should I get comfort from?"
"Why don't you go screaming for your mommy, then?" I said in an insulting voice. "Oh wait, you chased her away, didn't you?"
I know, I know, Jem... I know that's not the way to speak. But honestly, if you know how much stressed I was back then, I couldn't help it, really. It gives me a weird kind of relief.
"It wasn't me that chased her away!" He yelled, his eyes red and burning with anger. "It was her that ran away from herself and her responsibilities!" He, then smashed the glass of drink on the floor, the tiny shreds dancing through the heated air.
"See? Immature, immature... So you throw stuff? Then it's all violence, now!"
I know I should be ashamed, Jem, but you see, it was a heated moment. And I don't have anyone else to talk to. So please don't judge me from what I'd done.
I ran to the kitchen, then snatched a knife from a drawer. Pressing the blade harshly against my wrist, I studied Jon's reaction. "Don't come closer, Jonny. Or someone's gonna get hurt."
"Drop that right now!" He yelled, his body trembling with fury and fear.
"Aw, don't worry. I'm used to this, you know," I told him with a sick smile on.
And yes, he did know. He knew I cut myself. He knew I am a messed up freak.
"I swear by the Angels, if you don't drop it now, I'm going to kill you myself."
"Swearing by the Angels is something," I told him, the cold blade never leaving my skin. "Now," I took a moment to marvel at his expression. "Kill me, brother."
And he didn't. Cuz you know, I'm writing to you right now, alive and well. I mean, I'm not sure about the 'well' part. But I'm still breathing.
Still though, don't underestimate Jon's anger and impulse. He did leap on me. He did snatch the blade away from me and raise it to drive it right through my stomach. But just then, Jace, the crazy bastard, interrupted.
After a few more flashes of punches and kicks, Jace had Jon collapsed on the floor and the knife just beside him. Before he could reach it, I quickly grabbed it and dug it through my boyfriend's hand.
"That," I screamed. "Is for ruining this perfect moment."
He planted in pain as I pulled the blade out.
"And that," I scratched at his skin again with the blade. Blood, blood, blood... "Is for staying in the house and for your madness!" And one more scratch. "And that, is for your existence."
He twisted in my grasp to escape, but I, of course, wouldn't let him in the state of myself especially back then.
I cut through his skin one last time, making him tremble in agony. "And that, is for loving me.
Then I passed out.
.
When I woke up, I was on a bed with Jace beside me. Jon must've put us there. There were bandages on Jace's hand and arm, bloodstain still visible.
I looked up at him, meeting his tawny eyes that mirrors my reflection.
"Hello," I remember him saying. "You okay?" His voice was as soft as silk, unbelievingly gentle for the mess in his brain.
"I'm pretty fine, thank you," I said back quietly, grazing my hand from the top of his shoulder, down to the bandage on his hand. I squeezed a little, watching him flinch.
He closed his eyes once, twice, then smiled down at me. "You're so pretty."
"I know," I teased him, my hand roaming through his hair as his fingers brushed the scars on my wrist.
"I love you so much, Clary."
"I love you too, Jace."
.
I don't know how I'd feel if Jon gets punished for swearing by the Angels, yet not killing me. Jem, Jonathan has been a father, a brother, a protector, and a teacher to me. He has taken care of me for so many years. And if he dies... I don't really know how I'd feel.
Would it be joy? Sorrow? Excitement? Regret?
Whatever it will be, I'm sure it's going to be passionate.
Okay, now I'm having a breakdown. How to stop crying, how to stop... I may be messed up, but I'm still a human, Jem. I'm just devoted to the instinct of humans; passion.
Love, Clary.
Hello!
I'm expecting three different reactions:
1. WTF?
2. I'm just going to laugh it off.
3. Nope, I haven't even finished this story, and I'm not gonna. Just down here to tell the author how stupid this story is.
If not... Then, thank you for enjoying! I mean, I am honestly grateful that you read this through. Great job, readers!
(tell me which reaction was yours)
BYE