"I have a secret," the guy who introduced himself as Mark said. "And you may have already figured out my little secret, right? It's was makes me, and him and him and him," he said pointing to the other three guys that surrounded me. "Different."

"I-I-I have no i-idea what your-r talking a-about," I managed to spit. I wasn't cold but I was scared. The rain was cold though, and hard. In movies it's always raining when something bad happens, but in real life isn't it supposed to be a regular day? Well, whatever the reason, it was rainy and cold and almost dark.

"Oh I think you do…it's just that you don't want to admit it because you don't want to face reality," he grinned. He brought his hand up and wiped the blood off his mouth – the blood of my father and mother and brother. They were lying in their beds, looking peaceful in death; even though I know that they must haunt the house now, considering how they died.

"Fuck reality," I hissed. Mark, and the other three vampires around him, started laughing. "And I do not see how such thing could be funny. Death I mean. There shouldn't be anything funny about it if you're a human. But, I suppose you aren't."

"A little smarty, huh? Of course we aren't human; anyone who has a brain could figure it out especially if that person saw us attack," Mark thought. But he shrugged it off and looked back at me. "It doesn't really matter if you know what we are or not. You're going to die and that's that."

"Could we hurry it up?" the man on my left complained. "We've all had a share and I think we should get out of here before anyone stumbled upon our little….scene."

"Quiet, Luke," Mark growled. "I get to play my games."

"Why do you get her though? Maybe I want her," and Luke took a step towards Mark like a challenge. At least that's what Mark took it as because he lunged himself at Luke and they started rolling around on the ground. The other two boys started pulling them apart and I knew that was the time for my exit.

I took a last look at the boys rolling around then I slipped to the oak door and escaped. Looking both ways, I crossed the street and ran to my parents' friend, Garret. I started ringing his door bell again and again and again and again…until the door opened to an annoyed looking Garret.

"What could it possibly be, Clary? It's what, three in the morning?"

"There are guys in the house, and while my parents and David slept I was getting a snack and heard someone upstairs. I went into David's room and found him dead so I went into my parent's room and found two guys eating them. Really, they were sucking the blood out of their necks. They saw me and I ran down stairs but they were there already, and I was going to be attacked but Mark and Luke started fighting and I snuck out!"

"Clary, slow down. Say again?"

"Bad men are in my house and my family is dead!"

"Oh God, why didn't you say so before?" Garret asked horrified. Even under such circumstances I just had to roll my eyes at him but Garret didn't seem to notice as he pushed me into the house and dialed nine-one-one.

"Are you sure?" the police officer asked me for the third time. I was sitting in the police station while police and investigators worked on "The Mysterious Murder of the Years." At least that's what the next day's news papers are going to be saying.

"Yes, I'm totally and absolutely sure. It's not like I'm crazy or stupid, I do get straight A's." I like bragging.

"I never said that."

"You were thinking it." He sighed, got up and walked out of the room. I giggled – I love making people annoyed or frustrated, even if I did get scolded for it back home. I could picture what the guy was saying, "That little brat. Shouldn't she be crying or something?" Maybe, maybe I should have been crying. Maybe I was in shock. Whatever it was, I wasn't about to burst into tears. Oddly, I felt like bouncing up and down.

The door opened again and Garret stepped into the small office – that's what they called it at least, it looked more like a prison cell with furniture though.

"Don't you think this looks like a prison cell?" I asked him randomly, looking around the small space.

"Clary –"

"Why would they make an office in a prison cell?"

"Clarissa –"

"I just don't understand it."

"Clary!" I looked over at him with lazy eyes. "Snap out of it. You should be crying or something."

"You want me to cry? That's kind of mean, making a fourteen year old girl cry. Wanting a fourteen year old girl to cry. Oddly enough, I don't feel anything yet. Yet."

"Come on, Clary. Your entire family was just murdered and you don't feel anything?"

"You can't talk a victim into crying, you know, Garret. We cry when we cry and I just don't feel time to cry yet." Oddly enough, it was true. I didn't feel any kind of sadness, which seems very sick. "You know Garret, I think you should abscond. There isn't a point for you to stay here. Even if you did know my parents well, it doesn't mean you must stay."

"But –"

"Okay, this time I'm not asking, I'm telling. Abscond, depart, leave!" I don't know what came over me, like some instinct that he shouldn't be at the police station or in that room. Just an instinct.

"I will not be yelled at by a child!"

"Am I a child?" I asked him. "I think I can be counted as older then a child now, Garret. Now leave, before I get a cop in here or something. If you don't leave in about a minute something bad will happen." I knew it, I just knew something was coming to the police station and was going to stop in here. "Garret –"

"I think the young lady was asking you to leave," a voice from the door hissed. Garret had been stepping into the room with every word he said. "But I think it's a little late for you to, as she said, abscond."

"And you are?" he asked.

"I'm Mark," he said stepping into the room and slamming the door, then locking it.

"You can't do that," Garret said.

"I warned you," I sang in a mocking tone. I don't know what was in my head at the time but I didn't sense any danger even though the man that had killed my family was standing on the other side of the room from me.

"Shut up," Garret growled at me. I giggled, again.

"You know, she had a very good sense of people, dog," Mark grinned. His grin made me stand up and sit on the desk.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Mark. Or as I put it once, abscond."

"Do you even know what that means?" Garret asked turning around to face me.

"Escape, flee, get away, make off, leave sudden –"

"I think he gets it," Mark said.

"Mark, leave," Garret said turning towards him.

"Well, dog, you can't turn right now. It isn't full moon." Full moon? What is he talking about?

"Idiot leech. You never know when to give up, none of you do."

"Leech? Dog? I know he's a vampire, and I'm guessing you are a werewolf. Can I be a witch then?" I asked.

"Sorry, squirt," Mark said. I am not small. "You are an Old Soul."

"Good enough," I sighed standing up and leaning against the wall. "And if you aren't leaving," I said pointing to Mark, "And you aren't leaving," I pointed to Garret. "Then I am leaving," so I pushed off the wall and headed towards the wall. Until of course, Mark walked to me, grabbed my forearm and threw me to the opposite wall. I hit with an audible thud and then fell onto the couch.

But I could only thing about how it felt when he touched my skin. Like a connection went through us, right through both of us, and touched each of our souls. Don't think about it, I thought, willing myself back to normal.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked moving around a little. My back and shoulders hurt so I quit moving around and I talked instead.

"You are hurt. You can't move. You can't get in my way," Mark explained, crouching low. During the whole conversation Garret was staring at the door, almost willing someone to come through.

And thank the Lord, someone did. It was that cop who I was bugging. The one with the ugly bald head and wrinkly face. Everyone else looked a lot better, except maybe me.

My totally black hair was all tangy around me, and my clothes – which I got before I went to the station – had little spots of blood on them from the throw across the room. Mark had pretty blond hair and gold eyes while Garret looked like any regular middle aged man – who was a werewolf.

"What's going on n here?" the man barked. Mark moved quickly by grabbing his throat then throwing him across – and through – the wall and into the dark night.

"Is he…?"

"Dead. Same as Garret is about to be in a minute."