Yay! I got this post up earlier than I intended, but that's probably good. I am going away for the weekand and I will probably not be able to post until Monday at the earliest, so I'll try!

Chapter Four

Needless to say, I am a little dazed when I wake up. I look around, then instantly the previous night comes back to me. I yawn and sit up, pushing my arms up so that a little sliver of my stomach is exposed.

I look at the clock next to me which reads 8:00. Odd, I don't usually get up this early. I walk into the bathroom to find that my stuff has already been laid out for me. It was probably Izzy, she seems like the kind of girl who would do that. I look into the mirror, a little shocked by the black hair for a moment, only to remember the rune which I put on my forearm.

I take my shampoo and conditioner bottles out of my makeup bag and set them in the shower head. I turn on the hot water and let it run over me, a fresh, new feeling coming over me. I let the scolding hot water cleanse away my bitter past.

Before I know it, I walk out of the shower with a towel around me. I began piling through my clothes until I find a blue tee, with black jeans, a leather jacket, and my trusty combat boots. I take a look in the mirror, admiring myself, when something dawns on me.

My hair's red, and my eyes are green. The rune must come off in the shower. Well, some of the runes I create don't work perfectly. I etch a new one onto the same place on my arm with my stele which I had left on the bedside table.

I go to my bag and fish around for a moment, only to pull out my blue iPod. I walk over to the bathroom to apply my makeup, listening to a varity of different songs from artists like Coldplay, Imagine Dragons, and OneRepublic while I do.

When I'm done, I glance in the mirror. Aside from my black hair, I look relatively similar to my old self. I catiously run a hand over my forehead, checking to see if the scar was still there.

When I was young, as you all know, my father did abuse me. He did all sorts of things, hurting me with anything he had, at anytime. The "incidents" as I liked to call them, were usually when he was drunk or angry. For the first few years, my brother helped me. Then, the help came less and less, and finally I was left to suffer on my own. Later, he began to help father do these things, I even came close to death a few times. Well, this was one of those times.

I was eight at the time, drawing in my bedroom, worn out from training that day. I had been working on hand to hand combat with Jonathan, even though he was at least two times bigger than me. The picture I was drawing was of my mother, Jocelyn, who had just left us a few months ago. I could still see her face in my mind, so I decided to draw her.

I knew that my picture was perfect, and I was so proud of myself. It her telling a story to Jonathan and I, sitting by the fire. She was laughing at something, me in her lap and Jonathan by her feet.

So, when dinner came, I wanted to show my friend, Simon. He happened to be a servent in the Manor, and he worked in the kitchen most times. So, when dinner came, I snuck the sketch pad behind my back and into the dining room, still flipped to the page with my picture.

Dinner was very uneventful, my father making small talk with my brother, and me being sielent. Then, being the clumsy idiot that I am, I dropped my napkin. I forgot about the sketch pad, and reached down to grab it, the picture and pad slipping from underneath me onto the floor, landing with a thump.

My dad's gaze moved from me to the pad, picture clearly visable from his line of sight. His face turned red, and he grabbed the closest thing that he had, which happened to be a steak knife.

He took me by the collar and slowly pulled the knife across my forehead. Surprisingly, I couldn't feel a thing, only numbness. However, I did feel red spots coming over my vision, and blood pouring across my face. The last thing I saw was the sickening expression of my father grinning like a homicidal maniac.

I later found out that Simon returned me to my room, but the scar didn't heal over time. There is still a nasty scar across the top of my 's one of the tell tale signs that I am Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, and gradually I excepted the scar as part of me.

Now, because I didn't want the Clave finding out that the ten year old murderer was at the New York Institute, I kept it covered with my black bangs. Really, the only person that would be able to tell that I'm not Jessica Fray was Luke, and anyone who saw my scar.

I was awakened from my thought by a pounding on the door. "Come on, Jessie! Time for shopping!" Isabelle squealed like a four year old.

"Okay! Just give me a minute!" I yelled back. I stuffed my stele into my purse and slung it over my arm. I walked through the doors, and was greeted by a exstatic Isabelle.

"Hey Jessie!" she said.

"Hey, Izzy." I replied.

"Oh my god, today's going to be so much fun! Don't you love shopping?!"

I ran a hand through my hair. "Well, to tell you the truth, I don't go shopping all that often."

She clapped her hands. "We can fix that. So first, I was thinking that we'd go to..."

I really kind of tuned her out after that. Even though I wanted to go shopping and thought I needed to, that didn't mean that I had to like it.

"Jessie? Are you even listening?" She said, putting her hands on her hips when it became apparent that I wasn't.

I grinned sheepishly. "Well, no not really."

She smiled. "That's okay. Alec always tells me to shut up when I even mention shopping, so at least you don't do that."

I laughed and so did she. After glamouring ourselves to look like regular teenagers, we headed off on the subway. We hit the mall and immediatly started shopping (after my coffee stop). We went to so many shops that I couldn't count them on my fingers. At about the end of the day, I hat gotten several new things that included jean and leather jackets, gamer tee shirts (one of my pastimes), jeans, training clothes, and another pair of combat boots. The summary was that our hands were stuffed with bags.

Izzy was dragging me along, her hand tightly gripping mine. "One more shop! Please?" she asked, giving me the puppy dog eyes.

I sighed. "Okay, one more," I gave in.

She pulled me into a shop that had glowing letters for the name. She pushed me along so fast that I didn't see what it said. The shop smelled of perfume and new clothes. It was definatly not my kind of place. A blonde with a revealing shirt came up to us and showed us around the store. Though Izzy was giving all her attention, mine was elsewhere. Actually, I was thinking about last night with Jace.

Why would he tell me all those things about himself when we've only just met? Did he feel the same tingling sensation I felt when he brushed up against- My thoughts were interuppted by Isabelle.

"Jessie, I think that we've both got enough dresses. Let's try them on!" she said.

I looked down at the many dresses piled high in my hands. I tried on dress, throwing the ones away that had a revealing back (didn't want anyone seeing my scars) or was too revealing. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I tried the dress.

It was green. Emerald green, to be exact. It was sleevless, but still came up high enough in the back. It pulled in close at the waist, and drooped back out in waves. I stared at myself in the mirror, mesmerized by it.

"Iz, come quick! I've found it!" I said.

She came around the corner in a tight red dress, cutting off just before the knees. It made her look even prettier than she already was. "Jess, you look stunning," she said.

I stood, wide-eyed. "Look who's talking! Do you see yourself? You look amazing!"

She smiled. "I guess we found our dresses for Magnus's party."

"What?" I asked. I don't remember anything about a party!

"Oh, that's right. You tuned out when I was talking. We're going to Magnus Bane, the high warlock of New York's party." she said nonchalantly, as if it was an easy thought to understand.

I remember Magnus Bane. He was my father's ally, until he kicked him out for secretly conspiring with the Clave. Valentine tried to kill him, but failed. I hope he doesn't recognize me. "Oh. Okay," I replied. I tried to sound like I was okay with things, but I wasn't. It was pretty easy to trick the Lightwood's and Jace, but Magnus would be harder.

I was in for a long night.

Can someone explain the meaning of saying "I don't own the Mortal Instruments"? I don't get it! Obviously we don't own the Mortal Instruments of else I wouldn't be posting this on ! That's the whole purpose of this site!

Please Explain,

Josie.