Hey guys,
Sorry it's been sooooo long. I don't even have a proper excuse. Pure laziness.
This is a bit of a filler, but hopefully it keeps you with me.
Enjoy!
In the dream Clary was in a white room. It appeared to be some sort of hospital. The fluorescent lights bounced off the shiny, white linoleum under her bare feet as she walked across the room. There was a door at the end, and she felt a physical tugging at her arm, like someone was pulling her along. As she approached the door, it grew larger and larger, until, when she finally reached out to twist the doorknob, she felt like Alice down the rabbit's hole. When she entered the room, she found herself in one of identical colour and dimensions to the previous. She was surprised, and not at all shocked at the same time, to see what looked like a bar stool positioned in the centre of the room. Perched on the top of the stool was a woman, of about 35 years old. The woman had beautiful, long mahogany coloured hair, and eyes the colour of swimming pools. She was beautiful, but she seemed distant, translucent almost, like she could fade away at any moment. The woman was watching a screen of some sort, which appeared to be playing the various, seemingly random scenes of some-one's life in first person. Clary walked to stand beside the woman, and turned to look at the screen.
First, the person was riding along a path. There was no sound to the video, but Clary could see the bright blue handle bars with shiny pink streamers flying out beside her as the houses in the street blurred past her. Everything was slightly distorted and hazy, like a memory, one that was slowly being forgotten. The scene changed, this one even hazier than the last. Suddenly they were staring at a page in a book. The page was turned over, and everything was still again. The page was turned again. Then again and again and again. It seemed to go on for hours, but was over in what felt like seconds. Then the image flashed from sight again, and this time she could barely see anything. The scene was covered in voids of nothing, distorting the picture so that it was almost unreadable. But Clary could just make out a bundle of blankets, and a shifting shape beneath it. There was a child under there, Clary realised. She could see tufts of dark hair poking out from under the material. Then, without any warning, the scene was gone, and they were staring at a blank white wall. There was no evidence that the screen had ever been there in the first place.
She felt a cold hand, as cold as death, grip her arm. She spun to face the woman, and in that moment she seemed solid and clear, her eyes bright with fear and desperation.
"He has to understand." She said, in a thick Irish accent, "He has to know why."
"Who? Who has to know what?" Clary tried to pull away, her chest filling with inexplicable, irrational fear.
"Please," The woman was starting to physically fade away, and Clary began to panic – for some reason she couldn't explain, she needed to help this woman- "He needs to know. Clary. He needs to know. He needs to understand. Clary, please."
The woman was gone, but she could still hear her voice, ringing throughout the room;
"Clary, Clary. Clary, please." The voice changed to an American accent, and everything seemed to go dark.
"Clary! Oh my Angel, Clary, you sleep like a log." Clary's eyes fluttered open to see a very bright looking Isabelle towering over her.
"Finally." The black haired girl said, rolling her eyes. "I thought I was going to have to pull you out of the bed myself."
"Isabelle?" She asked, the dream already half forgotten, fading from her memory. "What are you doing here? I mean, I thought you were all still in New York."
"There was a demon problem in the city, and the local shadowhunters are all out of order, so we offered to cover them until they're back in commission. Too bad you were sick, Clary. That was the most god-damned fugliest demon I have seen this year. It was awesome."
Clary laughed, albeit a little nervously. Sick. Jace had told them she was sick. She was flooded relief to see that Isabelle, at least, had fallen for it.
Although, it wasn't entirely a lie. She felt sick. Her mouth was dry, and her throat felt rough, practically begging for something cool and moist. Her head was pounding; she felt like some was using her brain as a punching bag. She suddenly felt her heart sink and grew very hot. She had made a complete fool of herself. They all probably thought she was just a stupid, immature high schooler – despite the fact that she hadn't been at school in two years. Jace was probably embarrassed to have such a baby as a girlfriend.
Clary grimly followed Isabelle down the green hallway, grimacing as she caught a peek at her reflection in a mirror. Her hair was a wild tangle of red curls around her shoulders, her eyes were bloodshot and the clothes she'd had on the day before were wrinkled. And, although she couldn't really tell, she probably smelled weird. She briefly considered how Isabelle would react if she jumped out the window.
"So..." Clary tried, "You've met Dexter?"That would keep her going for a while, hopefully distracting Clary from her embarrassment.
"Oh yeah. How weird is it, right? I mean, he looks so much like Jace, but not in the way I expected. I mean I was picturing a sort of identical twin or something, but he's so different. A little bit of an odd, don't you think?"
"I hadn't really noticed that. Explain."
"I'm not sure. There's just something a little off-kilter about him.
"Thats rude, You barely know him."
"No, no. Not in that kind of 'I'm going t kill you' kind of way. Something else."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Whatever. I reckon he's kinda cute, in the sort of boy-next-door kind of way, you know? Not that I'm getting any ideas, I mean, I've got Simon. Besides, he looks too much like Jace, it would creep me out. And I think he's got something going on with that short chick anyway."
"Who, you mean Annabelle?"
"Yeah, the one with the purple hair."
"I don't think there's anything going on there."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I don't know. They just seem like really good friends. Kinda like me and Simon." Clary wasn't sure if that was entirely the truth, but she owed them more than to be talking about them behind they're back.
"If you say so." Isabelle said, "Whatever. C'mon, someone's made pancakes."
Clary's stomach growled in response to that, and Izzy laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the hallway, fast. As they rushed down, Clary watched as a ray of sunlight shimmered in the taller girl's shiny, ebony hair. She had a sudden flash of the dream, the woman's shiny, mahogany coloured hair. And then it was gone. Clary shook her head of the memory as they entered the kitchen.
Seated at the old, metal framed kitchen table was Alec, Dexter and a curvy black girl that Clary recognized as Jessie. Standing at the island, leaning next a plate of steaming, golden pancakes were; Jace, Anny and a tall brunette that she vaguely recognized from the night before. (Something starting with M. Meg? Mandy? She couldn't quite remember.)
Jace was the first to notice them enter. He smirked, detaching himself from the island.
"Shut up." She told him before he could even open his mouth.
"What? I was just going to ask you if you were feeling better." Jace said, in a mock-hurt voice, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"Yeah, I totally believe that." She scowled at him but he just put his arm around her shoulder, looking smug.
"And so she awakes." Annabelle piped up, handing her a cup of coffee, "How'd you sleep?"
"Alright I guess." Her cheeks grew hot and she gulped. "I'm really sorry about everything. I didn't- I mean I shouldn't-"
Dexter snorted from the table, interrupting her mid sentence.
"Please." He said, not looking up from the Woman's Weekly he was seemingly discontentedly flipping through. "It's not like you're the first person to crash overnight here. I swear it's like a 'Bed and Breakfast'"
"That's like code for; 'no problem!' 'Anytime!'" Jessie put in.
"You know what? We should start charging." Dexter continued, lowering the magazine, "Twenty five a night, including GST."
"Extra for breakfast."
"I'm pretty sure breakfast is included. That's why it's called a 'Bed and Breakfast'"
"Who said it was a Bed and Breakfast?"
Um, what? That's what the whole conversation has been about." Dexter said through a mouthful of pancakes.
Annabelle rolled her eyes making a frustrated noise as the conversation continued in the background.
"This is normal. Sadly."
Jace laughed and took his arm from her shoulders, making his way to the table where Alec was seated. The older boy twisted around in his seat to face Jace and gave her a small smile. She returned it with a small wave.
Clary sighed leaning back against the fridge. Annabelle was sitting on the bench next to the sink, watching the rest of them argue about the difference between motels and Bed and Breakfasts.
She was cute, Clary realised. She had let her hair dry that morning, so it grew in wild, thick, waves over her shoulders. Her neck was tan and long, leading down to softly curved shoulders. Her body was a slim upside down triangle shape under her cotton boxers and over sized tee. There was something about her movement and the shape of her body that made Clary think that maybe she was a dancer.
She was a bit of a nervous looking thing, Clary noticed, with her short bitten nails and big, green eyes, smudged with what was left of yesterday's eyeliner
Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.
"Jace, what did you do with my stele?" She thought anxiously of the precious heirloom.
Jace looked up, eyebrows raised, "Oh yeah, I just put it in your bag."
"Stele?" Dexter tore himself away from the discussion, "Is that some kind of cheese?"
Alec looked horrified. "Cheese? Cheese? Cheese? No it is not some kind of cheese!" His mouth had opened wide with shock.
There was a pause following the outburst.
It was a few seconds before Dexter spoke again.
"Pasta?"
There was a loud collection of groans, as well as a exclamation of "Face palm" from Simon.
Dexter looked genuinely confused.
"What did I do wrong?" Another outburst of groans. Mel shook her head and walked out of the room. Dexter, seemingly unaffected by the wariness of his peers, simply shrugged and went back to the magazine.
Clary frowned.
"He's not stupid, you know."
She jumped, whipping her head to the side. Annabelle had come closer to her, resting one hand on the table next the fridge. The other hand was up near her mouth, resting on her chin as she bit her pinkie nail anxiously.
"What did you say?"
Annabelle sighed. "I said 'He's not stupid'. It seems that way half the time, but he's actually one the smartest people I know." She was speaking in a hushed tone, so as to keep the conversation between her and Clary.
"Yeah?" Clary quirked up an eyebrow, something she had finally perfected after hours of practicing in front of the mirror.
"Yeah." Annabelle nodded, "But he's just so caught up in his own world, he has trouble, you know, relating with people. And he's so completely oblivious of everything around him. It drives me mental." She let out a short, breathy laugh and shook her head.
Her eyes drifted towards Dexter and the breakfast table, we're Izzy and Jace were talking, and Alec was still cooling down, muttering about steles and carbohydrates.
Dexter clucked his tongue, "Britney Spears got married in Vegas?" He murmured to himself, "Again?"
"Sweetie?" Annabelle called across the room. Dexter's eyes darted from the magazine to Anny's face.
"Huh?"
"That magazine is like, seven years old."
Dexter flipped the magazine over to peer at the front cover, pushing his glasses up his nose as he squinted at the small print in corner.
"So it is." He clucked his tongue again. "Huh. We really need to update our reading material." He chuckled. Jace snorted.
"Really? What makes you think that?"
Then there was a silence and everybody just sat there, wondering what to do. Izzy twisted a length of hair around her index finger while Dexter drummed his fingers against the table, looking bored.
Clary leaned closer towards Anny.
"Are all your Sunday mornings like this?"
She laughed, "Pretty much."
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL SHE TOOK LIKE 100 000 000 YEARS TO UPDATE AND WHEN SHE FINALLY DOES ITS SO BORING AND COMPLETELY BORING WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER"
I'M SORRY! I know this is pretty much a filler, although you have to agree that it does instil a small amount of mystery, right? Who was the woman in the dream? :O
Ummm, so what are my excuses?
I'd like to say that I've been too busy partying with my huge amount of friends and going to see awesome bands at awesome concerts and music festivals, but that would be a lie.
The truth is that I've been spending my weekends eating crappy junk food, playing Mario Kart, reading fanfiction, blogging and watching reruns of Community.
The last one I don't regret at all. I don't care what anyone says, Community is the best thing since How I Met Your Mother. I've also been watching reruns of that.
Anyways, I'm going to shut up, because you probably won't read this anyway.
I'll update as soon as I manage to pull myself off the couch.
Adios Amigos,
Beth.