You guys have no idea how dedicated I am to you! Ha-ha! :D I'm at my DANCE STUDIO uploading this when I could be having my break just so I could get it out for y'all. I think this is the week mark? It might be more but I don't think, so? :) I hope not at least. This is 'the chapter' as I call it. The bane of my existance. Can I tell you a secret? I had already had it all written before this, all 3,000 words of it. What happened? I hated it all so out the window it went. I found it focused too much on the clues and not on the turmoil. Anywho, here you go! Thanks to all the reviewers by the way, but I have to tell you I don't appreciate it when you ask me when she'll meet Jace. She'll meet him whenever she does, I don't even know yet and I write this! Thanks though! :)

I don't own anything. :))))

I looked dead, I knew that. The nightmare's had been even worse last night. So here I was, trying to be relatively normal as my friends twittered on excitedly about the dance. I clutched at straws, trying to find some way to fit in to what they were talking about but finding none. I felt like I could only bury myself in my hood and try to nod and look happy.

"Clare-bear, are you even listening to me?" Zoe asked, though her words held no anger in them.

"Yeah," I said simply, looking up from my lunch.

"You sure, you look all spaced out and junk,"

"Sorry, I just... didn't get much sleep last night," I finally supplied, which seemed to catch her suspicions just fine. At least, from where she went back to her chirping.

No one said anything. No one realized the internal battle that went on inside my head. For once in this group, I felt like an outsider, like I was above them. No, not above, below them. They were far above me, they were happy not this insincere version of happy that I felt.

I looked around the group, at Will, Chris and Zoe. They each had a face of contentment, they all had worries sure, but they were trivial. Yet, who was I to feel above them? Who was I to think that they knew nothing?

Disgusted with myself, I pushed my food away from me. The high school cafeteria was wrong. This was all wrong. I was wrong for thinking like this.

"Agh," I groaned, not realizing it was out loud until I saw the odd looks around the table.

"What's up, Clare?" Chris asked, his eyes suspicious.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I insisted to veiled ears.

"Come on, Clare-bear, you know you can tell me anything," Will said.

I couldn't help but catch the obvious seclusion of him that he made to the group, the look he gave Chris especially. No, I really can't, I thought, though I didn't say it. I couldn't say it.

"I'm really fine," I attempted, plastering a smile on my face for their benefit.

To my surprise, everyone took the bait I offered them and went back to their lives. It left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and matching thoughts in my head.

It was when Will put his arm around me and leaned down to give me a satisfied kiss that I seemed to snap. I pushed him away silently, a scowl on my face. I didn't miss the looks of confusion on everyone's face.

"Hey, what's going on Clare-bear?" Will demanded, his perfect facade slipping as I saw into his panic filled eyes.

"I don't have to tell you guys everything, why won't you just leave me alone?" I snapped, grabbing my book bag from underneath the table and avoiding their gazes as I stalked out.

I was happier in the silence.

I felt like everyone was staring at me as I hurried down the hallway, trying to look normal. Their eyes burned holes in my head though, piercing and shallow. I grabbed my hood and pulled it down farther over my eyes. I couldn't help the nervous shift of my eyes from person to person. "Stop being so paranoid," I whispered to myself, lowering my eyes from their accusing looks.

I almost skidded into a set of lockers when I saw some thing out of the corner of my eyes in the art classroom. I swear it was... blue sparks?

"Mr. Quince?" I stuttered, knocking softly on his door.

He whirled around from where he was crouched on one of the desks, over some thing. I narrowed my eyes at the item in vain but he covered it up with his body when he noticed me looking.

"Yes, Clarissa? I don't believe I have you for another few periods, am I correct?" he asked, his eyes guarded and his voice cold.

"I could have sworn I saw some thing in here," I stated boldly, not daring for pretenses.

"What?" he asked, "Maybe it was just a trick of the light,"

Yet, his answer was too quick, too hurried. I caught some thing out of the corner of my eyes, a piece of some thing.

"Is that my art project?" I gasped, pointing with a shaky hand towards the picture behind him.

I stalked forward and grabbed it from behind him. He didn't bother to stop me.

"W-what happened? It's not ripped anymore," I said, confusion evident in my tone as I flipped it over, looking for a sign of an adhesive.

Yet, there was nothing. It was like it had never been ripped before, pristine as though I'd just drawn it. There he was. He. Looking up at me through perfect eyes. It was all too much.

"Why is everyone lying to me?" I hollered, grabbing it with two hands and trying to correct his mistake.

"This isn't what it's supposed to be like! You ruined it with your magic and things, leave well enough alone! It's mine, he's mine!" I practically screamed, ripping it clean down the page.

He watched me with gentle eyes, still standing frozen beside me as he watched me repeated tear at the paper, anger in my eyes. No tears wet my cheeks, only frustration and despair at being lied to repeated... at not knowing what my own life was about.

I threw the remains down and stormed out of the classroom. I didn't see the faces, I didn't hear the tittering gossip going along as I ran out of the classroom, out of the school. I might have run farther if I hadn't realized what I had just done. Instead I just stopped and feeling more weary than upset, I slowed to a walk.

I passed by the cliffs of the beach and the numerous shops with nothing but remorse on my brain. I felt like some one had set a fog onto my head and here I was, stuck with it sitting on me, making me feel like I couldn't think at all. Some one could have hit me over the head with a blade and I wouldn't have noticed, I was sure. Where would some one get a blade in this part of town, though? My brain might be shady but it still thought ridiculous thoughts.

When I made it home I collapsed on the bed and fell instantly to sleep, my brain over worked from the pain and tears of the last few days. Memories plagued my brain, of places I couldn't begin to remember.

An angel rises up from the ground, clutching at a long sword with an elegant hand. He has tortured eyes and skin marked with strange tattoo's, similar to the one's I had drawn. He was rising out of what looked like the ruins of a large house. It would have been beautiful if not for the pungent smell of pain in the air.

The figure writhed in agony as it rose, a light so blinding illuminating every thing that surrounded it that I was forced to shield my eyes. When I was finally allowed to look back at it, it was gone. Leaving only a shield of sorrow and loss inside of me. I felt like I was not looking into the empty sky anymore, but into the golden eyes of a lifeless body. The feeling intensified until I felt like I was choking in it.

Then, just as suddenly as it came up, it was gone and my eyes were flickering back to reality.

When I woke I was covered in a cold sweat. I sat up suddenly, clutching at my chest as if the echo of that feeling. It took me a moment before I could breathe again, before I could bring myself fully out of the dream. There was no doubt that that was a nightmare, one of the largest that I'd had.

Sure, I hadn't been chased by monsters with scales or kidnapped by creatures that were unimaginable but that feeling inside of me was much worse than that.

Finally, I managed to stand up properly, though my legs were shaky. When I glanced at the clock, I saw that it was 8:00, a half an hour before I was due to meet my friends at the dance. Well, I wasn't sure if I was still meeting them but.

I felt remorse them, at the way I had treated them, it wasn't their fault that I was having a bad week. It wasn't their fault that I had some sort of mental issue or that I couldn't remember what I had done last summer. I had to apologize to them, and I had to do it at the dance.

It was an exactly fourty-seven minutes and twenty six seconds later that I stepped out of the bathroom ready to go. Exactly fourty-seven minutes and thirty four seconds when I looked in the mirror and froze, though the time was still ticking away.

I looked like some one I didn't recognize, yet some one familiar all the same. My hair was up in a clumsy up do that I had just managed to stick enough pins into to keep it up. My dress was the one that we had bought but it seemed to fit better than before, the back seeming to arch farther down so I was totally bare. There was some thing missing though.

With shaky hands, I reached over to open up my bedside table. I removed the chain with the ring on it in caution, clipping it around my neck. Satisfied I turned to leave. I stopped though when I remembered the purse I was going to take of my mothers. It wasn't exactly a purse, more of a backpack.

I sauntered into my mother's room, feeling oddly confident in my actions. Opening up her closet, I bent onto my knees and began rifling through her things. It was there that I saw the box that I associated with my childhood, the box that my mother took out once a year to cry over, the box with the initials J. C on it.

I fingered the edges carefully, debating with myself whether to pull the latch up and steal a glance inside. The old me never would have, the old me would have left well enough alone and gone on with my life because I liked it normal. Yet, staring at it reminded me that my life wasn't normal. It had never been normal.

Pain radiated off my chest as I stared at the box, a feeling I was confused about. I seemed to be confused a lot lately, wasn't I?

Taking a deep breath, I pulled off the top of the box and let it fall back, shaking slightly at the rebound. Nothing could have ever prepared me for what I saw inside.

Photo's. Crisp recently printed ones of... me? I picked the first one off the top and examined it. It was a picture of me and... a man? We were smiling in front of a large fountain, our arms wrapped around each other.

What hurt me so? It was the look of love we gave each other, the look of eternal devotion and trust. Secondly? The way he held his arms around me, his stature protective. Lastly? He was the boy I had drawn, the boy that I knew caused all of this.

My fingers clenched around the photo, cautiously turning it over to recognize m own script.

Jace and I. Idris hall. August 30th.

Jace. My lips curled around the name, speaking it out loud. Even by saying it it evoked such an emotion in me that I found tears prickling my eyes. Yet, along with the tears came some thing else.

Betrayal at what my mother was keeping from me. Sadness at what I was missing. Yearning for this Jace. Fierce longing for that old happiness and care. Determined, of the fact that I was going to find my old life, however long it took.

I stood up on surprisingly strong legs and walked out of the house, tucking the box into my school bag. I didn't care that it was a long way to the school, I was powered by my need for this.

When I arrived at the dance, I was a half hour late, my hair had fallen out and my eyes were cold to any one who bothered looking. I clamored down the large steps, ignoring the stares I earned.

Chris' eyes found me first, widening slightly at my frazzled looks. Upon seeing this, Will looked also along with Zoe. They stood in a semi circle, alone. Perfect. I didn't part the way like I had been hoping, but had to fight my way through the people. When I finally ended up in front of them, elbows aching from the jostling, they looked wary.

"Clare," Zoe acknowledge sourly, always one to hold a grudge. This bristled at me but I kept silent.

"When I came here," I whispered, "When I first came here, what made you want to befriend me,"

They stared at me, shocked at my question. I could see Will swallow in nerves and Zoe just look baffled. I didn't care about them though, it was Chris that I needed to tell me, to remind me. I focused my emerald eyes on him, piercing through his own like knives.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. A part of me regretted the confusion I was causing him, but another part of me didn't care. Evidently, the part that didn't care was more prominent.

"I guess it was the mystery," he gave out, which earned confused looks from the rest of the group.

"Don't you remember? When we first saw you had this absolute look of hatred on your face and looked miserable, standing by the cliffs. When we asked you if you were going to jump you just about pounced on us with accusations. We all thought you were the rudest bitch we'd ever met to be honest," he chuckled humorlessly before continuing, "But the next day when you showed up the same place you looked confused but still happy. That's what got me at least,"

I swallowed, my heart beating erratically.

"What did I say? The first time you talked to me," I whispered softly.

They exchanged glances.

Will spoke first, in a slow tone, "You don't remember?"

"No," I murmured persistently, "Tell me!"

"Well, you called us mundies or some other weird thing and you kept saying these weird expressions like... what was it? "Thank the angel" or some thing," Zoe said after a moment, her anger gone down with the weirdness of having to explain this to me, "But then you never said it again. It was really weird,"

They either didn't notice my erratic breathing or just didn't care. I had to put a hand to the table beside me to steady myself, afraid I might keel over with shock. That would be sort of ironic, I let myself think, considering all I'd been through. They looked at me through hooded eyes, their looks slightly angry in that infuriating way the people here looked. They didn't know what pure anger was, what pure hatred was. Yet, some how, I knew I knew.

"I have to go," I muttered, turning abruptly to leave.

"Clare!" Chris burst out, reaching to grab my arm.

I rushed out of his grasp. My force should have pushed me into the table but it didn't, no, it didn't, not at all. I seemed to sense where I was going prematurely and was able to wrench out of the harms way. This could have been described as lucky, could have been passed off. If not for the defensive crouch I'd tumbled into upon landing, if not for the murderously paranoid look on my face, if not for the fear in my friends.

"I- I'm sorry," I offered before turning to run out.

It was the kind of whether that girls hated. The kind of weather that frizzed hair and made sweat marks. I didn't care though, I already looked like an idiot enough in my grande dress and light make up. Without realizing it I was twirling the necklace around my fingers.

"Hey!" I screamed suddenly, jumping out halfway onto the street.

The cabbie screeched to a halt, barely making it in time to stop for me.

"Hey, yourself! I could have hit you!" he barked to deaf ears as I slid into the back of the compartment.

"Airport," I snapped, pushing my damp hair away from my eyes and giving him a sharp look. I didn't think it would have that affect on him but there was some thing in my look that made him drop the subject of nearly running me over.

He had almost a rough look to him, his hair over grown and a hat covering the rest of his head. He was young, almost too young to be out of school but he had an aged look in his eyes. There was also a long scar along his neck that went down his body until it was hidden under his shirt. I sniffed, smelling pine. Probably just a cheap air freshener.

"Where you headed to?"

I grinned at this, my white teeth flashing in the darkness. He almost flinched back at my sudden change of mood.

"New York," I answered, smiling from ear to ear.

I have to hurry this because my annoying friend Molly just came in and she told me to 'hurry my face' and get on Omegle. :) Hope you liked it! Review please! Charlotte.