Urgh so this is incredibly short, but it worked this way! Next chapter will have to be a lot longer to make up for it!
"Alright class, settle down and sit with your partners" Madame Dorethea calls as I reluctantly take the seat next to Isabelle, who looks far from welcoming, despite the weekend I had previously spent her house and - rather awkwardly in her clothes. But apparently it took more than that for Isabelle to warm up to me.
"Hi" I greet her, plopping down into the chair. She looks at me with disgust. I accept her greeting.
"So, now we all know a little bit more about our partners after last lesson, I will explain the rest of our project. The next few weeks will be devoted to making a college of what makes you and your partner different. I will also be intrigued to see things on there that are both similar as well."
"How are we meant to present it? What do we put on it?" A few kids shout out from the back of the classroom.
"Anything you like, this could be family pictures, family trees, artwork. You can even borrow the art department's cameras and take pictures yourself. I'll be grading the projects and…well that's it, good luck!"
She dismisses us and everyone erupts into conversations with their partners. I however erupt into a mini coughing fit, spewing out the foul liquid into a new tissue. My eyes are watery when I finish and stuff the tissue away.
"Eww. Please tell me it's not contagious" Isabelle comments, grimacing at me. I laugh inside.
"No I don't think it is"
"Good"
"So…" I start.
"Yes the project, I was thinking we could have items from both of our wardrobes, mine more than yours of course, your fashion sense isn't very good" She looks at my outfit in disgust.
"Er, I'm wearing school uniform…"
"Yeah but not as well as I am"
"Right…."
"So we'll bring in the clothes and cut them up and stick them in a college!"
"I don't want to ruin my clothes"
"Oh honey, they're already ruined"
"But-"
"Oh alright then, what do you suggest?"
"Well-"
"I don't like it"
"But I didn't-"
"Yeah I don't like it"
"Do you have any other ideas then?" I ask, really losing my patience with her.
"Mmm….no!"
"Do you like photography?"
"Not really"
"Art?"
"Make-up! Yes! We should totally do that" She gasps "I could give you a make-over"
"I don't-"
"Oh don't worry, I can make you look beautiful." She glances down at grasps my hands "You have really nice nails!" A gasp. "I have some red nail varnish in my bag! It'll go so well with your hair!" She squeals and rummages through her bag, pulling out the nail polish. Red. Like blood. I protest, pulling my hand away but Isabelle grasps it tight.
"Oh don't make a fuss! We're meant to be working together!" She opens the nail polish and wipes the cold liquid across my thumbnail expertly. I look down and panic. It's wet and red. Like blood. Like the blood on my hands from when….I lash out, knocking away Isabelle's hands and sending the nail polish spiralling, spilling it all over Isabelle's stuff.
"WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?" She screeches, rage evident across her features. She lunges for me and I squeal, expecting the worst.
"GIRLS!" Mme Dorethea yells, coming in between me and her before it can escalate. I breathe a sigh of relief. "Would you kindly explain what is going on?"
"Madame, I was just painting her nails as a bonding thing, since we're partners, when she just lashed out! It's not my fault!" Isabelle excuses herself.
"Really Clarissa? Go to the headmasters' office, again!"
I grab my stuff, not complaining as I get away from Isabelle's unpredictable presence.
"I'm very sorry Isabelle, she can be quite the little tyrant…." I hear Mme. Dorethea apologise in my wake. Shaking my head angrily I stomp off towards the office and knock on the door.
"Come in!"
I push open the door reluctantly and take the empty seat in front of Mr. Blackthorn. He is a more laid back teacher, but is as tired of seeing me as every other teacher in the school is.
"Again?" He asks, incredulously.
"Obviously"
He sighs.
"What happened now?"
"Isabelle Lightwood tried to paint my nails and I just…lashed out"
"Is that all?"
"Yes sir"
"Why they even bother to send you to me…." He mutters under his breath. "You have these outbursts often? Is that why you are sent here so much?" He asks.
I shrug.
"You know, we just recently gained a school counsellor named Mr Carstairs. Perhaps I should refer you to him"
"No sir, that won't be necessary…"
"It is in my best interests to ensure the safety of all pupils and if these disruptions continue to happen…no I have made up my mind, you can go see Mr Carstairs. Somebody will be around to give you your appointment time"
"Sir, I really don't-"
"Clarissa. You are treading on thin ice here, so I expect you to co-operate."
"I can't-"
"You may leave, Mrs. Fairchild. Go back to your class and apologize to Miss Lightwood."
I huff and walk out the door. What if this Carstairs dude finds out about Valentine? Why? Why does he have to come along now? I suddenly bend over in an onslaught of coughs, the blood splattering off my hand and onto the floor. I shudder, standing up and wiping the blood away. The fits are getter longer and more violent. This is bad.
I push open the door, regardless and enter, just as the bell goes off.
"Ah good, Clarissa apologise to Isabelle, I will not tolerate any more squabbling." Madame Dorethea announces, leaving the classroom. I timidly walk up to the red coated desk and more importantly, the black haired teenager currently mopping it all away.
"I'm really sorry, Isabelle. I didn't mean to spill it"
She sniffs, almost as if she's crying.
"You got a text message" She declares, looking up to stare at me with daggers in her puffy red eyes.
"…I did?" I ask, rather confused.
"From your boyfriend"
"I don't have a boyfriend-" I protest.
"DON'T LIE!" She unexpectedly yells and throws the red stained cloth to the ground.
"But, I-I don't?"
"Then what's this!?" She screeches, holding up my phone. "Call me when you can. I'd love to talk to you again, especially after what happened at the weekend. Hey maybe we should go out sometime. Simon" She reads.
"Simon's not my boyfriend"
"DON'T LIE! YOU'RE A LIAR. I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST HIM BUT HE'S JUST A LIAR TOO. ALL MEN ARE CHEATING FILTHY LIERS. JUST LIKE MY DAD!"
"Isabelle please listen he's-we're not-"
"DON'T YOU DARE DENY IT, I SAW YOU TWO AT THE WEEKEND. HE WAS GOING INTO YOUR ROOM!" The tears are flowing freely down her cheeks now as she advances. "FILTHY" She steps toward me. "CHEATING" Another step, I stagger back. "LIARS!" She screams and launches at me, pushing me back with so much power that I fly back and crash into a desk. The wind knocked out of me, I struggle to my feet, terrified of the wailing girl in front of me. I want to tell her that this is a big misunderstanding, that Simon's not a liar, that he probably loves her. I can't though, because as soon as I open my mouth, a cough launches itself through my chest and I double over in absolute agony. Blood pours from my mouth as another cough ricochets through my chest. The pain is unbearable, I barely register the impact as I sink to my knees. So much pain. My eyes water. My throat burns, My heart, my lungs, my chest is all on fire. I can't breathe. I can't see. I can't hear…
Izzy
Oh my God. I killed her. I actually killed her. I stare wide eyed at the girl in front of me, there's blood everywhere. I think I scream. I need to do something. I tear out of the classroom blindly and into the corridor searching for help.
"HELP PLEASE!" I scream. Heads turn my way. I spot Jace and for once in my life, I could sing for joy at the sight, "JACE!" I run up to him and grab his hand, pulling him with me.
"Izzy, what's going on-" he stops once I've dragged him into the classroom and he can see for himself. His eyes grow wide and he drags his hands through his hair, as panicked as I am.
"What happened?"
"I don't know! I pushed her and then-"
"Oh god. We need to call an ambulance, quickly!"
I pull out my phone, hurriedly dialling the numbers.
"What's the emergency?" The operator asks.
Jace
I kneel down in front of the coughing girl. I have no idea what to do.
"Clary? CLARY?" I call. She looks up, pain evident in her eyes the blood still pouring from her mouth. My heart speeds up uncontrollably, what do I do? She appears to try to say something, but slumps forward suddenly. I panic even more.
"JACE!" I look up to see the equally panicked Izzy, still on the phone. "We need to turn her over so she doesn't drown. Face her to the side."
I shift the small redhead over, making sure that her airways aren't blocked so that she won't choke, at least I listened enough in first aid classes to know that much. Seeing her like this is like being stabbed in the heart, it's such a foreign emotion that it sends me panicking even more. I pace around nervously, running my hands through my hair. Sirens cut through the tense air and I exchange glances with Izzy.
Clary
There's so much pain. And blood. It's too red, too familiar. I see Jace pacing around, at least I think that's what it is. It's too blurry to make out properly. My hearing is distorted but I think I can hear sirens. Jace keeps pacing, at least the shoes keep pacing in front of me anyway. I try to tell him I'm alright but the words are caught up in my throat by more violent coughs. I close my eyes at a sharp pain that ripples from my ribs, cascading over my chest. When I open them I can only see white. Maybe I'm dead already…but what about Phin… No. I try to pry my eyes open some more and notice that there are heads bobbing along. I must be on a stretcher, so not heaven…My head pounds as the ceiling changes to stark grey clouds. The coughs still erupt from my chest and I can feel the blood cascading down my chin. It's everywhere. The ceiling is replaced with high beamed lights and beeping machines. The people disappear and I panic. The doors slam. A hand grips my own. I stare with glossy eyes at the ceiling, willing myself to stay awake. So much pain. The headache worsens, the pain intensifies and the darkness invades the corners of my vision. I blink my eyes furiously to see a very worried face hanging above my own. Golden hair flopping over his panicked tawny eyes. I stare at his face but it only starts disappearing again. All that's left are the eyes until I'm pushed under the wave of darkness and pain.