Clary POV

Sitting, waiting and planning seems to be the only thing I do nowadays. It has been 2 months, 1 week, 3 days and 12 hours since I was checked into the mental institute. As far as the doctors are concerned, I am in a persistent catatonic state that stems from the post partum depression due to the resent birth of my son Josh. I do not talk, move or even blink when people are around; which is really hard to do. However, I need everyone to believe that I am no longer all there in the head as they say. The longer I stay like this, the higher the likelihood they place me in a room without security watching me. I need the cameras off me so I can put the rest of my plan into action.

With that last thought the door to my room opens and Jace walks in. It takes every ounce of my being not to stand up and walk into his arms. However, I hold fast, because I know this plan needs to work to get my family out of danger. This is when I finally hear the news I have been waiting for.

"Clary honey," Jace says, "the doctors are moving you into a new room today. This room has more windows and you will be able to see the woods out back." Yes! I have been waiting for this day. I know it hurts Jace to see me like this, but I need him and my kids to be safe. When I know how to work through everything I will come back to him. "I am so sorry you are here, but the doctors are going to help you get better." Jace says to me as he kneels in front of me. He then sighs and kisses me on the head before standing up and walking out.

Once Jace leaves the nurses come in to help me move to my new room. I am stood up and placed into a wheelchair by two nurses, while a third grabs my bags. To say being man handled is not fun is the understatement of the year. For weeks I have had people feeding me, washing me and moving me around, all of which gets very annoying when you are fake crazy.

The move over to my new room is quick, since most people in my situation do nothing. The one nurse places my bags down, removes the clothing and places them into the drawers before putting the bags into the closet. Since I am not considered a danger to myself or others, they do not see the need of removing the bags from the room. I did a lot of research before coming here and I know what they do with personal items, such as bags with metal zippers, if they think you can use them for something harmful. Being catatonic, the nurses just leave them in the closet, because they don't think I will even go near them.

While my belongings are being situated, the other two nurses move me over into the rocking chair that is in the room. Since they don't think I can understand them, they start to talk. "It is a shame really, she is so pretty and after everything she went through last you, you would think nothing could get this girl down" says the nurse putting up my bags. This is when one of the other nurses talks. "Well, the mind can only handle so much, so I guess she just broke."

'Broke my ass' I think. I did not break, I am just waiting and planning, but they don't know that.

"Mrs. Herondale," One nurse starts, "we will be back later with your dinner." I like this nurse, I think her name is Aline, she always tells me when she will be back, even though I am not supposed to be able to understand what is going on around me. I researched for a week on how I would slip into the depression and then the catatonic state. The hardest part was learning how to wake up without moving. It had to look as real as possible for everyone, even the doctors to believe it. Now I just need to wait for night to fall so I can start planning my next steps.

Later that night

Well, today was boring as hell, but an hour ago the nurses came in, bathed my and put me to bed like a toddler. When the lights finally went out in the hall, I knew they had done the last bed checks for the night. In this wing of the facility, they only check an hour after bed time to make sure everyone is asleep. Everyone in this wing is either catatonic or on sleeping medication, so the staff fells secure that we won't do anything in the middle of the night. Little did they know, that their once catatonic patient is about to get out of bed for the first time in over 2 months.

Now, getting out of bed was harder than I thought, mainly because I have not moved in months. Yes, they do physical therapy to help you retain muscle mass, but when you don't actually walk, you become very weak. However, I am determined to get started.

I manage to get out of bed and make it over to the closet where my bags are held. I slowly open the doors so I don't make any noise. Luck is on my side, because the bags are on the floor. I don't want to risk dropping them from a shelf or something and make noise that would allow them discover my true mental state. I sit down next to my bags and open the largest of the three. Hidden inside the lining is a small tablet and charger. I plug the charger into the outlet, which is right next to the closet.

Research is essential when planning an escape, rescue and revenge mission. I needed to know where I could plug this thing in and how long I would have to work on my plan without getting caught by the staff members. The idea is to make as little noise as possible, so I had to know the layout of every room in the facility. I knew at first they would place me in the suicide wing just to be safe. The downside was that those rooms have security cameras watching your every move.

Once the doctors were confident that I would not harm myself, they would then move me over to these rooms. By knowing the layouts and schedules, I could make sure I had the right supplies to help with my plan. Sneaking in the items was a lot harder, because I had to make sure no one would find them in the lining of the bags. I also had to hide them in between people checking on me before getting admitted to this facility. Good thing I am great at multitasking.

As I wait for the tablet to boot up I have nothing left to do than think about the last year. It was a great year. Ana turned 8, Joshua was born and Jace and I were finally happy. Camille's trail never happened, because she pled guilty to all charges and accepted her fate. That should have been my first clue that something was wrong. That bitch never went without a fight. Now I know it was because she was waiting for me to let my guard down before she started her 'game' again. Once the tablet was up and running I opened the first program. This program was going to help me keep my sanity, because it was linked to hidden cameras around my home. I kind of feel like a stalker, but I have to see my family, even if I can't be with them.

The program kept video logs for me and all I had to do was pick a date and open the file. I decided to skip the dates right after I was admitted because I knew they would be too hard to watch. I reached back into the bag and found the ear buds I had placed in there. I made sure to get cameras that would pick up audio as well as video. I choose a video from 2 weeks after I left. It was from the playroom we have in the house. The next thing I saw made me cry, it was Ana playing with Simon and her dolls. Jace was over in the corner holding Josh. I couldn't help notice that no one was really smiling, even though they looked like they were having fun. Then Ana spoke.

"Daddy, when is Momma coming home?" she asked him. "I don't know little-bit, Momma is sick and she needs to get better." I hear Jace tell her. Ana just looks down and away, while continuing to play with her dolls.

I pause the video and look at my family. This is the last time I will ever break a promise to them. I am going to figure all of this out and then Camille won't have to worry about prison, she will have to worry about death. I am going to get out of here, save my family from her threats and then I am coming for that bitch!