I.

Gone again.

They hadn't even left a note this time.

Mom and Dad were frequently gone, trying to work as a liaison between the Clave and the Downworlders. That would have been fine, if they ever bothered to ask me how I felt about it. When I'd been younger, I had traveled with them to Alicante. Now, though, I stayed behind to continue my training at the Institute.

Missing training was unacceptable. Ever since the demons had been released and had teamed up, Shadowhunters had to be more prepared than ever.

I zipped up my jacket and jumped out the window.

The fact that I was five stories up didn't bother me.

Angel blood could do amazing things.

Thud!

As soon as my feet hit the ground, I was running.

II.

The guys were staring at me.

They always did. I had my father's golden looks and my mother's petite frame, though my muscles were certainly more developed than other girls my age.

One of them finally sauntered over to me, trying to project an air of confidence.

Go away.

In my mind, I started going over all of the ways that I could incapacitate him.

His breath smelled like alcohol. "Wanna dance, baby?"

The strobe lights were hurting my eyes.

The loud music made my head pound.

Forget. You need to forget.

"Sure," I found myself saying.

III.

Practices became harder, due to my late nights. My instructor noticed and asked me about it, but I brushed him off and continued to sneak out. When I was at the club, I could forget who I was.

Forget about demons and Downworlders.

Forget that I was a Shadowhunter.

Forget that I was Samantha Herondale.

Sometimes, with the perfect combination of alcohol and luck, I could lose myself completely.

IV.

I didn't know his name.

But did it really matter?

His lips were all over my skin.

He smelled like alcohol and something else… lust.

I cried out when his fingers laced into my hair and jerked my head to the side roughly. He shoved me against the wall as his hands continued to rove all over my partially exposed skin.

"No," I moaned, but I wasn't sure what I was saying no to.

Him?

Or the part of my brain that told me this was wrong?

"Just relax, baby" he whispered into my mouth. "I'll make it enjoyable."

He pressed me against the bed of the hotel room and suddenly, I didn't want him touching me.

But I didn't have the strength to push him away.

V.

So this is what it feels like to be empty.

Finally, I had fallen completely over the edge.

It had been a short fall, yes, but a hard one.

The air was cold and I regretted leaving my jacket behind.

Not that it mattered – the cold was inside of me.

"Sam?"

Two men stepped out of the shadows and I instantly recognized them. They were werewolves from Luke's – my grandfather's – pack.

"Sam?" Jesse, the one that had spoken, stepped forward, concern all over his face. "Sam, what happened?"

I could only imagine what I looked like. Fresh bruises, running makeup, wild hair…

"Sam?" he stepped closer, stretching out his arm towards me. "Do you want me to call Luke?"

He got too close and I jumped away, shrieking. "Don't touch me!"

He appeared startled. "Sam, I…"

"Stay away!" I said, my throat choked with a sob.

"Sam…"

I spun around and began to run.

"Sam!"

They were running behind me, but I kept going.

And going.

By the time they caught up to me, I was in an abandoned alley, arms wrapped around myself. I hurt too much to go on.

"Sam…"

The other man held Jesse back. "Jesse, I think… I think she was raped."

"Oh my God."