Hey, this is my first fanfic…ever… so please tell me if you liked it or if it was just absolutely terrible. I plan on updating every day. I have this written on paper so no writers block, just keepin some suspense… sorry. okay, here we go. Enjoy.

I only own the plot. Cassandra Clare owns the characters. Becca Fitzpatrick owns Patch

Clary's POV

"NO, MOM! I don't care. I'm not going!" I hate yelling at my mom, if I ever do its just joking around, but this time it was real. "Clarissa, don't! Just don't!" and with that she stormed off, undoubtedly to her room. And I'm the one acting like a child. "MOM, I'm going to the park with Simon." I'm pretty sure she didn't hear me but at least I had the leg up in our next argument.

(AT THE PARK WITH SIMON)

"How dare she tell me I'm being shipped," I added unnecessary emphasis on 'shipped' because I'm pretty sure Simon wasn't listening. "Away to Idris or whatever the hell it's called?!UGH, in a week! I LEAVE in a week!" I finished. Then, Simon felt the need to interject, which was fine. Ranting is tiring. "Leaving?" he sounded confused and a little hurt, like I wasn't just explaining this to him. "Yes, Simon. Keep up." My tone probably a little colder than I intended…oops. "In a week?" where I sound cold, he sounded panicky.

"Yes, I'm pretty I already went over all of this; leaving, in a week." "You-I mean" "Simon," I interrupted his stuttering. "Yes," he answered with an unnervingly shaky voice. "Shut up." I barely had time to finish my command when his lips were on mine. I made sure to pull away after a second. His lips were cold and he was paling rapidly. The thought of him as a vampire stuck in my mind, I shook the thought away before I could smirk. I explained to him that I had to pack, and left him just as confused as I was

Once I finally managed to drag my terribly confused mind from what had happened I was somehow at my apartment door. When I got through the door non-other than my mother sat in the living room, not preparing to scold me, but to examine her easel. The-Angel-Knows what the hell she was painting but it beat screaming. She was 'lost', as she called it in her painting. It didn't bother me, seeing as I did the same thing.

Once I made my way up to my room I started to pack. I was lost in thought but by the time I was done I'm pretty sure everything I owned was in a box or bag. Seeing as I've never even heard of this Idris I can't really decipher the whole weather aspect.

Clary's POV (third- person)

She was looking through sentimental things to bring. Almost every 'sentimental' thing she had was crammed into a shoebox. A majority of the crap being photos. They were of her, mom, dad, Simon, the old dog (Patch; he had black eyes and a pale-ish fur color), and group photos. She was flipping through a stack when on caught her eye and made her heart drop, stopping all together. "No, no, no. It-no, it can't be. John?" his name was snagging her throat triggering tears.

Okay….how was that? Review please. Love it, hate it? Let me know. Total hush, hush incorporation right there…I love patch. Sorry this chapter is so short. All the others are long, I promise. I just need to get things started. Okay. Thanks for reading it.

Love ~Ava