Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments.

CHAPTER 1

16 years later

"Clary, get your ass in here now girl," Valentine yelled, his loud voice echoing through the house.

As Clary got out of bed to go to him, she couldn't help but think how her body was still sore from the last time she had displeased her father. As Clary ascended the stairs, she held onto the rail for support. She tried as hard as she could not to think about what was about to happen.

"Yes father," she whispered hoping to stay on his good side. However, that was not to be. She didn't even try to block the fist that connected with her stomach, forcing her to double up in pain. She searched through her memories, trying to figure out what she had done to upset him.

She curled into a ball to keep the blows from hitting anything vital. She prayed to whatever God that was listening to end the pain, the torture, even her life. However, she would never pray for any harm to come to her father, because he was the man who raised her and he was always right and she was always wrong. Sooner than usual, the pain stopped and Clary hoped that it was all over with. However, Valentine had another type of torture just for her.

When it was done, he rose, and walked away, not even looking at the girl curled in a heap on the floor. It was only after Valentine left that Clary let out a small sob. The lessons always hurt and she couldn't help but long for her father's love as he walked out the door. She wondered where her father went every time he left. Often, he was gone for days, even weeks, leaving the girl with a house full of servants, and teachers who never gave a damn about her in the first place.

All Clary knew was that she was tired of fighting for her father's love that he never gave her. She was tired of him leaving her alone. She wanted to get away, away from the pain, the torture. She just wanted away from it all and she knew what she had to do.

She had to run, run from her father, the pictures of her mother she never knew, from all the bad memories that this house held for her. However, the timing wasn't right, and for now, Clary would bide her time, until she could slip away unnoticed. Besides, she had to plan what little she should carry with her.

That night when everyone was asleep, Clary packed what little possessions she could fit in her small back pack and snuck out the window and ran. She had no idea where she was headed, because she had never left the house before. Little did she know that that sometime in the near future, she would meet someone who was running away from the same fate she was, and eventually into the same trap. The only question was whether or not they would survive.

A/N: Advice? Comments? Questions? Just wanna chat? PM me or Roseofnoonvale. Flames will be used to roast hot dogs or make smores.