Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments characters. THIS STORY, I HAVE DECIDED, WILL UPLOAD AT WHATEVER TIME ON FRIDAY, SATURDAY, OR SUNDAY. WORD COUNT: 2366 CHAPTER ELEVEN: THE RUNAWAY DEMON
As she lights the new cigarette outside, Clary 2.0 shows up again.
It lets out a low whistle. "You really hit the jackpot, didn't you?"
She raises her eyebrows at it. "How would you know?"
"I think you forget who I am. I am you." It pauses for a moment when she puff out smoke. "See that?" Clary shakes her head no. It sighs. "Inhale once more. Then exhale slowly. And watch me this time." She do as it says. As the trail of smoke leaves my mouth, the demon does the same. "I have experienced everything you have."
She feels her face heat up. "Everything?"
It giggles in response. It's no secret that I'm not a virgin. But knowing that this thing knows what she did before she met Jace makes my skin crawl. In attempt to change the subject, she asks, "What's hell like?"
It snorts. Clary says, "That is where you live, right? Or go to?"
"Don't you have a little blind girl to find?" It spits.
She must have hit too close to home. She hides a smirk. She starts walking out of the shady area of the neighborhood. She blows out smoke. "We've got time."
It clicks its tongue. "Do you realise that spending more time with me, might make you see me? Actual, literal, me. Or you. Whatever you see when I visit you, but it won't be as a shadow. I will be able to stand right next to you, and touch you. You'll be able to touch me too and see me but no one else will."
"I'm not afraid of you," Clary sneers.
It sighs in defeat. "Okay, you want to know what hell is like? Hell is cold. Hell is calculating. Hell is terrorizing. Hell is reaching inside yourself, searching your heart, trying to find out how you really feel but ending up finding nothing. Hell is opening your mouth to scream but nothing comes out because there is nothing left inside. Hell is the immovable boulder weighing down on your chest, it is the desperate need for the ability to cry, it is the panic and anguish that comes when you realize you can't. Hell is the condescending voices echoing from somewhere in the back of your mind, reminding you who you were, who you've been, and who you are now. Hell is laughing at you. Hell is disappointment. Hell is trying and trying over and over and never succeeding. Hell is failure. Hell is the silent night torn apart by raging screams and flying furniture.
"Hell is the deafening wail of a child—you, maybe—accompanying every insult, every furious, careless word that escapes your attacker's mouth. Hell is the empty threat he took as a promise. Hell is the sadness weighing on your apartment, so palpable you could wrap your fingers around it and try to snap it—but you can't, because hell is already there. It's the painful need to sit still and concentrate on breathing because you suddenly forgot how to. I could go on about hell forever, and I would never be able to enumerate all of them because there can only be so many words that can describe hell, and there are too many people in this world who see different kinds of hell. I cannot accurately define hell, I don't know much about it, but I can tell you what it is for you."
Clary is silent for a few moments, her heart thundering. "How would you know what my hell is like?"
"Clary, I think you keep forgetting that I am inside your head. Your hell is hope. It's your only escape."
"That's not true," she scoffs. "My hell is my father."
It shakes its head sadly. "No, your father is your fear. Fear is something that happens to you." Clary squirms at the gentleness in its voice. She can almost feel the scars on her back burn. "It pulls you out of your safe zone, it pulls you out of your comfort and it makes you feel powerless in your situation. It's something that builds up and it keeps feeding into one core aspect of making you feel completely vulnerable. You can't control it whenever it happens. You're powerless. You're completely alone. You don't have any means of getting back to safety. You have nothing. Fear is something that makes you irrational, something that puts you in a state of doing things you would not normally do. Like running away with some stranger to anywhere, you don't know where, but you're running as fast as you can, trying to get away, but you know deep down you won't be able to. Your father makes you feel powerless because he made you powerless, what he did to you. He is your definition of fear, not your hell."
Clary feels her muscles tighten. "Why are you suddenly so insightful?"
"I've always been understanding. You usually just ignore me or try to shut me out when I try to talk to you."
She shakes her head. "Then why are you suddenly so nice?"
It sighs in exasperation. "I was never meant to be the bad guy, Clary."
She laughs, disbelieving. "You're a demon."
"Okay," it huffs, "I am. But that doesn't mean we can't put our differences aside and be friends."
"You have made me feel miserable since my father was put into prison," Clary growls.
"That was all on your own. I have only tried to be a friend."
She sighs and runs her hand through her hair, scanning the area for a little blonde head. She thinks back to some of their conversations and remembers that the demon is right; it has only wanted to talk to her civilly. "Alright. You're right, and I'm sorry." It only huffs in response. She clears her throat and blow smoke out of the corner of my mouth. "Do you—uh, do you, like, have a name?"
It snorts. "You mean besides 'Clary 2.0'?"
Clary blushes. "You know about that?"
"I'm constantly inside your head," it says, annoyed. "But no. No, I do not have a name. I might have had one once, I just don't remember. Been a long time since I was a human."
This is all very surreal and Clary tries not to think about it too hard. "Do you want a name?"
"Well, I have always liked the name Madeline." Clary can sense a smile in its—her—voice.
Clary grins. "Maddie, huh?"
"Yeah, if that's—"
"Clary!"
She turns towards the familiar voice. There, about two city blocks to her right, is Gemma. And she's alone. Clary's heart races in her chest as she makes her way to her.
"This doesn't look very good," mutters Maddie.
"Shh," Clary tells her.
"Sorry," she whispers. "One more thing: you might want to put that cigarette out before the kid sees you with it."
She tosses it behind her back, not caring that it's still lit. "Gemma," Clary calls out. She looks scared, and she's shaking. Clary kneels down in front of her. "What happened?"
Gemma sniffs. "Celine thought you guys left her for good. Sh-she's never had any visitors before. She knew she had a brother, but she told me she didn't think he c-cared for her since he never came, but now he's here and she's scared he'll leave her too. So she asked me to come with her—"
"When? When did she tell you to go with her and why?"
"Last night, when you two left. I-I only agreed to go with her because I didn't want her to get hurt and I knew I wouldn't be able to talk her out of leaving because she's really super stubborn. S-so we packed our bags and left early in the morning. A-and then when all the adults woke up to go to work, we got separated in the crowd of people." Clary wipes away the tears that spill out of Gemma's eyes.
"Okay," she whispers. "It's okay. How about you lead me to where you two were when you got separated?"
She nods and turns back around, dragging Clary away. She looks for Maddie, but she seems to have gone. Clary bites her lip and contemplates on telling Jace that she has Gemma with her, but there's no sign of Celine. She decides not to text him; he doesn't need to worry any more than he already is.
Gemma suddenly stops and looks at her. She narrows her eyes. "You smell . . . you smell like smoke. Do you smoke?"
Clary falters. "I-I . . . Yes. I smoke. Just don't tell Jace," She says with a pleading smile and a small shrug. "He doesn't like the smoke."
Her eyebrows furrow. "Then why do you do it?"
Clary sighs, "It's been a tough day. You should know."
She bites her lip and continues forward, still gripping Clary's hand. "But why would you do that if you love him? You love him, right?"
Clary smiles softly. "I wouldn't know what love is if it smacked me in the face."
"I would."
Clary can't help but smile at her innocence. "How? You're just a kid."
She sucks in a breath. "Mama told me that when you look at the person you love, your hands get all sweaty and itchy, and your heart races, and your tummy's full of butterflies. And that's only when you see them. She says when you touch them, it's electrifying."
Clary tries not to think about Jace when she says this. "Your mom must have known a lot about love, then."
Gemma shrugs nonchalantly. "My parents were in love before they died."
"How did—" The ringing of Clary's phone cuts her off. The caller ID reads JACE and she picks up immediately. "Jace," she breathes out. "What happened?"
"I've got her, Clary." The relief in his voice is evident.
"Where was she?"
"At a park not too far from Mercy. She was asleep on one of the park benches." He lets out a breathy laugh. "Scared the hell—" He clears his throat. "Sorry, heck out of her when I woke her up, but she seems to be okay. She's not hurt, but she's worried. God, Clary, she lost Gemma."
"Oh, don't worry about Gemma. I have her."
"You-you have her? How?"
"She found me."
"O-okay. Just . . . meet us back at Mercy's girls dorm."
"On our way," I tug at Gemma's hand as she looks at me expectantly. "It might take a while, though; we're on the other side of town."
"That's alright," he sighs. "Be careful."
"Careful is my middle name," she says before hanging up.
Clary fills Gemma in on the phone call as they walk back to Mercy. Neither of them pick up on the conversation about love and parents before Jace called, and Clary thinks Gemma is secretly grateful for that. Maddie never shows up and Clary can't help but feel a little disappointed, which surprises her because she's not usually fond of her presence, but today it was oddly comforting. Like knowing something from her old life will never change.
Finally walking through the front doors of Mercy, Clary finds Jace immediately. Lucy has her arms draped around him, crying and thanking him over and over. Clary can see through her façade easily, and apparently so can Jace: his face is devoid of every emotion except annoyance. Clary hides her smirk and finds Celine surrounded by curious police officers and a woman who looks like Celine's social worker. Clary walks over to Jace to ask him about it.
"Where have you been?" Lucy spits at Clary. She has no idea what she's done wrong this time.
"Not all of us can be Usain Bolt," Clary retorts. Jace gives her a pleading look that says Don't Be An Asshole For Like Five Minutes but Lucy is really testing her patience.
"Yeah, well, you're late."
Clary shifts weight on one leg, and lifts her hand up to inspect her chipped fingernails. She pretends to sound bored. "In this day and age, we shouldn't need labels like 'late'."
Lucy exhales sharply through her nose and yanks Gemma away from Clary. Her sickeningly sweet voice is back as she asks Gemma how she is.
Jace pulls Clary away from the crowd. He leans down to kiss her, but in fear of him smelling her smoky breath, she turns her head at the last second so his lips land on her cheek instead. He pulls away with a slight frown.
"Not here," Clary whispers, nodding towards Celine and the other curious girls who poke their heads to see the commotion.
He nods in understanding. His grin returns. "We still up for that date later?" Clary nods excitedly. "As soon as we have everything all figured out over here, then we're out." She nods again and he kisses her forehead sweetly.
Clary's heart thumps as she remembers what Gemma said about being in love and that's all she can think about until she hears her father's voice in her head.
Ugly. Undesirable. Unwanted. And then she feels the self-inflicted scars on her arms throb all over again. It's been like a week. I have no excuse other than I wasn't really motivated. I did get some nice comments, but they were all Guests so I couldn't respond to them directly so I am thanking you right now! So thank you Anon, mentapiperina (I love your enthusiasm btw), and k8. R&R? Inspiration is nice/recommendations are always always welcome Until next time.
