Trouble youths, no matter how dangerous or bothersome were all a part of my profession, and for the longest time I believed that, that was how it would remain that I would be just a guidance counsellor at a summer camp for troubled teens up near Yellowstone, but that all changed when a patient I had never before witnessed derailed my hopes of living a normal life, her name was Clary and she was my pyromaniac.
The camp itself was incredibly old and rustic, I was in residence since the year ninety-six, and as I had somehow stuck around long enough to not be driven insane by the teenagers my team and I dealt with for nine months out of the year, I was the most senior staff member… the camp itself and its facilities well could probably if not actually be in violation of more than one hundred health and safety codes and requirements, but no inspectors or such like came by since the benefactor of the camp an old war veteran by the name of Michael had bribed off not only the state but the entire government up to federal level. Unlike other staff members who moved on and off the camp grounds, I lived on residence, someone almost had to with all the animals and unfortunately so the teen friends of the patients who as they put it were doing a "civic" duty by attempting to break out their friends, I was undoubtedly surprised that I had not been pushed to shoot anyone yet.
When I had first been given Clary's file, by all accounts it was the largest any of us staff had ever seen, thousands of minor offences and a few too many trips to the psychiatric ward, she was without a doubt still burning hundreds of thousands up in damages and the only reason she was still walking the streets and not in a maximum-security prison was because of her father. Valentine Morgenstern stood on the Supreme court as a justice, and he was not one to be lightly meddled with. It was absolutely no surprise the everyone but me ducked out in being given Clary's case, she was nineteen this year and it appeared that our camp as desolate and dead as it was her last chance to make a clean break, her alternative was to be locked up the rest of her days in a straitjacket being fed food through a straw, it wasn't something I was going to let happen without at least trying to change her ways.
Clary technically speaking arrived early, days before the spring program of 2017, she approached the main office building with freshly painted black nails, and from what everyone had told me she had a pixie cut, a pixie cut she had by my observation given to herself… she just told everyone that her haphazard hair was a direct result of it being caught in one of the fire she had set alight. To everyone else the matter seemed so complicated, why would a straight A student, captain of the cheer squad, theatre star and overall perfect girl next door suddenly decide to become a rebellious, dangerous criminal, some blamed her parents for their lack of caring, others said she simply snapped and therefore it was not her fault and that this entire thing was just a phrase to get all the pent-up crap of being an heiress meant. Whilst everyone else was throwing theories up in the air, I came to the conclusion that her motives were simple. She wanted revenge and she wanted retribution for her brother Sebastian. Sebastian who had been sent away for a murder he didn't commit, however justice demanded he die for his crimes and so he is currently serving out a life sentence and is on death row.
Clary took the fury that came with her brother's sentencing and declared herself, her brother's avenger. At first her spree was petty and easily passed over because no one wanted to deal with a hefty law suit, until she started to light fires, soon she was the cause of buildings being burnt to the ground and to a lesser extent was the culprit of one too many wildfires. When asked by officers why she did what she had to do, she explained that she found bliss in the destruction, the lick of the flames, the warmth that came, it made her laugh like a maniac… she wanted to dance and the feeling of euphoria, according to Clary around fires it was as if she was the Queen of the world. So, they put her on meds, to control her, but like any teen with an agenda she refused and ran away… eventually quitting school and running off to get a string of under aged tattoos, how she managed that feat is still an unanswered mystery.
There was no doubt that Clary was incredibly intelligent, if anything she was just furious with the world for taking away her role model, for taking away the closest thing she had to an actual paternal figure considering Valentine was always busy.
Now, our first encounter happened to be at a fundraiser her mother, Jocelyn Fairchild had been hosting. I was going to represent the camp and also because Michael had made clear that he could not and would not attend another one of these fundraiser galas that Jocelyn loved to hold for no reason at all.
Winter of 2017
Adjusting my tie, I did one more look over before stepping out of the bathroom and towards the double doors being watched by two stocky security guards, it was a well-known fact that I would be the black sheep amongst the socialites and businessmen attending tonight, hoping to make a good impression they asked to see my ID before letting me inside. The hall itself was already full of men in suits and women in long, expensive evening gowns. I kept my head high, reminding myself that acting confident here was the only way to implicitly keep people from bothering me, a part of me wished that Michael had come with me.
Michael and I went way back, he in many sense of the word was like a total and utter father figure, a mentor, a man of many trades after everything he had been through he had a finger dipped in every pie from the moon all the way to Pluto, although the war he had participated in had scarred him beyond anything, he was still at his very core a gracious person. He and I had met him London, after I had when I was much younger, had attempted to steal his car… he could have pressed charges but instead he took pity of the boy that I was and made me a man, offering me a proposal that I couldn't ignore or say no to, it was simple all I had to do was educate myself, swear off a life of crime and that was it. The transformation was almost instant, I found myself on the top of my class and I definitely hadn't expected to be given my position at his "summer" camp as soon as I graduated, his lawyer made clear that if and when he passed away I would be given rights to everything he had ever earned.
The hall was monochromatic and modern, pictures adorned the walls, there were pops of red, something that Jocelyn had become renown for. The woman in question was dressed in a Dior couture gown, as she approached her heels clicked, for someone of her stature she really didn't need the heels, she stood out for her fiery red hair, green eyes that could be compared to emeralds and freckles, anyone who was unobservant would think her approachable but her aura was of intimidation, the same kind that Michael and her husband held under tight grip. She screamed power… though I felt as though she like most of her status had a major ego problem, Jocelyn lived for the attention no doubt. She came to a pause directly in front of me, offering me her hand.
"Jonathan yes?"
"Jace." Correcting her
"Jace, unfortunate that Michael couldn't join us. He's told me about you."
More like your private investigator did. I held my tongue.
"A psychologist yes?"
"Clinical."
"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be round to see you again Jace."
Her voice hanging a little longer on my name than I would have liked, she then proceeded to sashayed off to greet more of those in the room… something that didn't go unnoticed by my nose was the underlying scent of male musk beneath the entire bottle of Chanel, seems even Jocelyn had her own secrets, something she was trying to hide from her husband no doubt. Turning towards the bar, there sat a female with two males watching her like a wolf would its food. Her gown was in stark contrast to that of her dyed midnight black hair, her green eyes were exactly like Jocelyn's, she held a look of contempt if not boredom… this was definitely not her scene, that made the two of us. Lowering my eyes to her hands, I was astounded by the black handcuffs that enclosed her wrists, and even though a chain separated them, watching her attempt to pick up items felt almost uncomfortable, I wanted to inquire but she beat me to it, she was far smaller than me, standing only at perhaps 5'4.
"Not my idea."
"Whose idea, was it?"
"The woman hosting the event."
"And the men?"
"Also, her idea." She was being sarcastic
Turning her head towards me, I noticed that unlike Jocelyn, she had fewer freckles and her lips were painted black, she then looked back the bartender. I ordered myself a whiskey on rocks.
"So, why the handcuffs."
"I'm trouble. Name's Clary."
"Jace."
She sipped from her glass of orange juice, a ring of bell had us both turn to where Jocelyn stood, the room had been rearranged before our eyes and both of us were seated soon enough, it was a surprise to know that I was sitting at the main table, Clary sitting to her mother's left, with her father on her right. She looked tiny compared to the two adults sitting next to her. Valentine screamed wealth and power.
"So, I hear you're a clinical psychologist, you work with Michael yes?"
"Yes."
"We're thinking of sending Clary to your camp."
"As if I won't burn it down, I've done it before." She barked back unpleased
"Clarissa!" Jocelyn snapped
"Your son is in jail for a murder he didn't commit and I refuse to take meds an am a registered pyro."
Valentine wasn't having her attitude, he pulled her up like she was a twig and dragged her out of the hall. Jocelyn now flustered and clearly embarrassed hastily apologised to everyone for the commotion. A part of me knew for sure that I'd see Clary again, I just didn't know when.
