Ok, I deleted the other second chapter because I thought it was rushed, so here's the rewrite :)

Oh, and by the way, I'm going to be doing this thing called theme song chapters. Each chapter will have a theme song and the chapter will be named after the song, I might even do a little lyric piece if I'm up to it.

The first chapter will be the only one without one, cause you know I don't want to influence you on the mood of the first chapter.

Over and out,

L.C.

~*Theme song*~

In the Dark: Flyleaf

"The silence overtakes me.

The idle word forsakes me.

And I'm left to face me.

I'm held accountable."

It was quite a sunny day for England I admit, on my second day working at a mental hospital. I dreaded getting up, seeing that we had to be up at 6:00 a.m. every morning.

I didn't have to go visit Jace till 8:30 though, so I thought it was pointless to get up at such an early hour.

I put my scrubs on and brushed my hair, not bothering to take shower since I didn't trust the plumbing there. I brushed my teeth and went to go find something to eat, preferably an apple of my taste. I found Linda at her desk doing some paperwork as she usually was. I cleared my voice as I made my way up to her. She looked up.

"Oh, Clarissa, you're up." She smiled. "I was wondering if you'd check on Jonathon early today."

I crinkled my brow. "Why?"

"Well, he seems to be having bad night terrors lately, I just wanted you to go try and calm him down since you're his new nurse, so he can get used to you."

"Oh, well okay." I looked up at the small basket full of fruit, and I grabbed myself an apple. I made my way down the long corridor, all the way to the end where the elevator was.

I got in and went up to the second floor. I leaned up against the wall of the elevator, still eating my apple slowly. It dinged and I got out, going down the corridor to the second to last door. I knocked softly and opened the door.

"Jace? Jace, are you alright?"

No answer. I entered the room more, peering in to find Jace standing on his bed, drawing furiously with his piece of chalk on the ceiling.

"Jace! Get down from there, you're going to hurt yourself."

He only laughed.

"I'm serious, get down from there!"

"Well you see Clary, I can't do that."

"Why?" I looked up at the ceiling to view his drawings more closely.

"They'll come if I don't draw these, and I can't let that happen Clary, they'll hurt me, and you, and everybody here."

"Who?"

"I don't know, but they said they're coming after you mostly, and I have to protect you, I don't know why though, they wouldn't tell me." he paused and looked down at me. "But then I woke up."

"So it was a dream?"

"Not exactly, it was sort of like a vision you could say, but it was very blurry, and I couldn't really make out anything."

"Jace, I think you should come down now, you could get hurt."

He laughed.

"I'm serious, get down, I don't want to have to get the other nurses to get you down from there."

"The other nurses don't understand, not like you. Susan did, but she left after she found out." He suddenly looked downtrodden. "I hope I can trust you Clary, I can't trust the others like you."

"Wait, what did Susan find out?"

"She found out what the markings were, she fled here immediately after. Apparently she died a few weeks ago."

I was confused. "How'd you find that out?"

"I overheard the other nurses talking. It's like they think I'm mentally retarded, well I'm not, even if I may be mentally ill. They all think that when they talk I can't hear them or something. I'm glad you're not like that Clary, it's a great relief."

Finally he came down, stepping off the bed and sat down on the edge. "Can you keep a secret Clary?"

I nodded.

"Well, you see…" he scratched the back of his head. "I'm not a virgin."

I was completely confused by now. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, everybody here are all whack jobs, they're all still virgins, but I'm not. Is that weird?" there was a look of torment in his tawny eyes.

"No, not at all, it depends on your past if it's normal or not. If you were sane in the past, then-."

"I'm still sane Clary, they just put me in here because they were convinced I was dangerous. I'm still sane."

"Well, okay then, if that's what you think."

"It's not what I think, it's the truth. I don't belong here Clary. Although I am an orphan."

"You're an orphan?"

"Yep, my mother died giving birth to me and my father died in a car crash."

"Then how'd you end up here?"

"I'll let you find that one out for yourself." He smiled and lay back in his bed.

I closed the door behind me, the concrete steps beneath my feet cold as ice. I was afraid to go down into the records room, the place where they kept every record of every person ever there. I wasn't supposed to be down there, but after what Jace had said it was just too tempting.

I knew for a fact now that Jace wasn't like the others; he was nothing like them. I had to dig deep to find what I wanted, and I was prepared for it.

I made it to the bottom of the steps; row upon row of rusting green file cabinets covered the entire floor. I had to look in the M's for Morgenstern, but I knew it wouldn't be that simple.

It took twenty minutes for me to find the three file cabinets that held the M files, each of them having three drawers to look through. It took almost a half an hour until I finally found the file: Morgenstern, Jonathan Christopher.

The file was filled to the brim with papers. I tried to find the history papers, but only came across criminal records and health information. The last three papers I found had what I was looking for. They also included a headshot of him, which made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

His lip was cut with dried blood dribbling down his chin. He had the start of a black eye and looked sullen and tired. It must have been taken only a year ago because he looked no younger than he did at the time.

My eyes searched the paper for any names I might recognize from the news possibly, anything about a death or something.

My eyes finally came across a name that looked significant. Stephen Morgenstern. From the looks of it, he was his father.

Father Stephen Morgenstern killed in car accident suspected to have been caused by son, mother Celene died in birthing of son. Patient taken in by Lightwood family at age ten, soon convicted of murder and attempted suicide at age fourteen. Found not guilty and put under heavy supervision of authorities. Patient admitted into Asylum at age sixteen for attempted suicide and trying to purposely hurt youngest member of Lightwood family. No other records found with anything to do with the patient's history.

The papers nearly slid out of my hands, my palms sticky with sweat. I shuffled quickly through the papers as I found an observation document made by one of the doctors at the hospital.

Patient has a hard time with other people, conversing and keeping a steady conversation. Can't identify with people properly without mentioning something from his "imaginary world", quickly becomes irritated or bored. Sharp objects are harmful around the patient, continually tries to slit his wrists when possible. Has convinced himself that he is sane and everyone else is not, will not speak at all if any of the staff ask him anything. Does not get along with any of the male staff, only female will he answer back to or converse with. No other further comments.

I found a physical examination file that made me choke.

Scars on arms from cuts and a long white scar runs from his jaw down his neck. Thin and seems to have tried to starve himself. Jittery, always nervous and shakes when gets real upset, can't eat very much at one time. Many small scars cover his body, along with the larger ones. His state of mind is in critical condition at the moment and will not get better if physical condition does not.

I heard the door slam from up the steps and I shoved the papers back in the file and put it back in the cabinet, crouching down as the person walked by. Whoever they were didn't stay long, got what they wanted and left without a sound.

I got up, my knees shaky and my throat dry, my tongue like sandpaper. This was scary to me. Jace was not normal, his history was lengthy and detailed and meant that he was more dangerous than everybody made him out to be. I was surprised that I even managed to get out of the file room, making my way up to the first floor with my knees still shaking and my breath raspy in my throat.

I needed to visit Jace, to ask him why they really put him in there. In the file it said he'd tried murder suicide, but to who?

I had never noticed any cuts on his arms, or any scars on his neck or on his body, but maybe because I never wanted to see it. Maybe my mind was blocking it out for some reason, like I didn't want to believe it or something.

Thoughts raced through my head like a speeding train, and I had to stop and catch my breath.

Jace scared me, and I didn't really know why.