My, Clarissa sure does sleep late... A thought breaks through my slumber and I wake up. Hearing voices inside my own was like second nature by now for me. As I like to say, people were never alone inside their own heads. They just didn't know it. For all I knew, I was the only person with the ability to 'read minds'. I would be casually walking down the street, when suddenly, I would hear people's thoughts inside my head. At first it scared me, but now, almost 10 years later, I've gotten used to it. It all started when I was 7, when I had never had anything strange happen to me before. But suddenly, one day, as I walked through the busy streets of New York, I heard another voice inside my head. I had asked my mother if she heard it, but she only looked at me as if I was crazy. I tried to tell people, but they only reasoned that it was my overly-active imagination, and I had thought myself up imaginary friends. I later realized that it was better to keep quiet about the 'powers' that I posessed, for someone would surely try to figure out what was going on, or try to create more people with my ability. But I wouldn't wish this upon anybody, it was strange to hear thoughts as if they were your own, when really, it was a random stranger you saw on the street, or a close relative. You always figured something out that you with you hadn't known before...
I sit up and climb out of bed, much wanting to stay in bed, but knowing that soon, my mothers incessant pounding on my door would start, disturbing the quiet. I rub my eyes, as if trying to get rid of my tiredness, and walk towards my closet. I trip over a sketchpad left laying open on the floor. I look down at my most recent drawing, and think of the thoughts that were my inspiration. Sometimes, when I hear thoughts that I happen to be inspired by, I like to draw what I think about them, or what they remind me of. I pick up the sketchbook, close it, and put it in its rightful place on my desk, along with all of my other sketchbooks.
I walk to my closet to pick an outfit to wear today, a simple pair of jeans and a 'My Chemical Romance' t-shirt. I wasn't like most girls, I wasn't fond of fashion or gossip, or anything like that. I would much rather sit on my bed listening to music and sketching, than go to the mall and shop. If I stayed in my room, I could get away from all of the strangeness in my world.
I walk towards my door and open it, seeing my mother standing there, slightly startled, ready to knock. I grin at her and she rolls her eyes.
"Always one step ahead..." She mutters and turns away. "Breakfast will be ready in 10." She calls beck to me as she walks back to the kitchen. By now, I have learned to control my mind, I can block out certain people's thoughts, but only certain people. My mother was one of them. Another was my best, and pretty much only, friend Simon. We were the nerds of our town, the freaks, which, little did they know, was true for me. Simon for all I knew was normal. I started trying to block out his thoughts some 4 years ago, when he started to develop feelings for me, and I was beginning to realize that I could block them out. I still havent told him yet though, for he would probably disown me for not telling him in our lifetime of friendship. I haven't told a single person, except for when I was young.
I lay on my bed, grabbing the book on my nightstand to stall for the next 10 minutes until breakfast was ready. I had a large bookshelf full of books. I loved to read in my spare time, when I wasn't sketching. I began to read, and checked the time every few minutes, the smell of bacon hitting my nose as I sat in my room. My stomach growling, I headed down the stairs, ready to eat. I saw that my mom had made pancakes and bacon, my favorite. A simple mean, but delicious nonetheless. As I finished up my pancakes, I decided that I would go to the store today, to see if I could find some new art supplies. I also needed new charcoal pencils. I knew that my mom would let me go, if what i was doing was related to art. My mother was an artist herself, which is where I got my talent from. Even though I guess I was pretty good, my mother's art was fantastic. She captured every little detail with such ease, it might as well just been a photo. Even drawing something as simple as an apple, she managed to make it look enchantingly beautiful.
I walked towards the door once she had approved of my little trip. I stepped outside, and saw that there weren't any people walking outside. I walked down our driveway and started walking on the sidewalk. I could hear quiet voices in the back of my head, most likely people in their homes. I payed no attention to these thoughts and kept walking. I turned at the end of my street, heading downtown, to the closest art store. Thoughts flooded my mind when I headed down Main Street, with people walking all around me. I reached the art shop and pushed the door open, hearing the familiar ding from the bell, which alerted the cashier of my presence. She looked up and smiled, and I recognized her as Simons older sister Rebecca. I was glad it was her working, and not one of the other cashiers, I knew her better. I smiled back at her and we greeted eachother. After we had said our 'Hello's' I turned towards the supplies. There were many aisles, stocked with art supplies of all kinds, from Canvases to stencils, any art supply you could imagine, was found here. I walked down the second aisle, which I knew held pencils and charcoal of all sorts. I grabbed a couple of what I was looking for and started down the aisle, wanting to look around.
I heard the bell on the door ding again and I turned towards the door, as did Rebecca. A girl holding hands with a young boy walked in, and my hands twitched. yearning to draw her. She was, in one word. beautiful. She had long, jet black hair, flawless skin, and kind dark brown eyes. She smiled kindly at me, before turning her attention to Rebecca, though what they wanted wasn't found at this shop. They were looking for comic books, and came into the wrong store. They must've followed the directions they had found online wrong. I turned my attention to the young boy. He had light brown curly hair and glasses, with the same dark eyes as his sister. He reminded me of a young version of Simon in a way.
The boy quickly bounded up to me, and began to enthusiastically introduce himself. "Hi. My name is Max. What's your name?" I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could, he continued as I watched him amusedly. "Do you like comic books? We came to get some, but we must've come to the wrong place..." he said thoughtfully and I nodded.
"Hi Max."I told him. "My name is Clary." He looked up at me and nodded. I looked at him as he looked around the shop curiously.
"Do you like to draw?" he asked me and I nodded at him, amused.
"Very much, yes." I told him, laughing slightly. His sister caught a glance of him and turned away from Rebecca. She grabbed Max's hand and looked at him sternly. Don't talk to strangers she was thinking and he just grinned at her.
"I made a new fried Izzy! Her name is Clary." Izzy looked at me and smiled a bit and held out her hand. I took it and we shook.
"I'm Izzy." She told me, "Sorry about Max, his curiosity gets the best of him sometimes." I laugh and introduce myself.
"I'm Clary. It's no big deal, he reminds me of a friend of mine." She looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds then, she grinned widely.
"Well Clary, I have a feeling that we are going to be good friends..."