AN: Hi, everyone! I'm kind of sad that this is one of the last chapters. Only one after this and then an epilogue. Even though it hasn't been that long, it feels really weird. Oh well, here's the chapter.
Meeeeee: Thanks! :) I just don't really want to take it for granted. I don't understand that reference, but it sounds funny! Sorry for the cliffies! I don't know, I guess this one actually technically counts as one too. I'm sorry, this is the last one! Although I guess that's technically only because the next chapter is the last one, and a last chapter can't be a cliffhanger. I'm also really impatient. Well, at least I updated quickly. Enjoy!
I'm not u: Thanks! Glad you're enjoying it! And, um, yes, I am staying alive pretty well. Nothing really life threatening. Enjoy the chapter, and I'm glad your blood pressure is fine now! ;)
Disclaimer: I still don't own The Mortal Instruments. Or Costco, for that matter, which I mention here.
Out of the shadows, and into the dim moonlight filtering through the window, stepped Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, one of my closest friends for about three years.
"Iz?" I choked out, brain filled with joyful, but now painful, memories of us being silly together.
"Oh, don't 'Iz' me. Did you actually think I liked you? Did you think I wanted to spend time around you?" She daintily put a hand over her mouth and giggled, but it was obviously all an act. In her dark eyes hid a dangerous animal, something fighting to take over. "I'm sorry, dear. Your ignorance just, well, it rather amuses me. Did you never think it was weird how I immediately struck up a conversation with you, literally on the flight to New York when you were 'escaping.' Never questioned how all information got back to me? Honey, I never turned against you. I was against you before we met." For the second time that week, I made the sound of a dying porpoise.
She stepped a bit closer, and I shrunk into the bed in which I was still lying. Suddenly, the room didn't feel comfortable or warm as it had minutes before, it felt cold. In that moment, if you measured the temperature, I'm guessing it would be somewhere around 1000 degrees below zero.
"You had even started to question the Wayland boy, huh? Honestly, you question him, and not me? He wouldn't hurt a fly, unless it was someone who tried to hurt you. He's the sweetest thing, really. It's a bit sad, actually. In less than nine weeks, you managed to turn him into a dog." She said all of this in an obviously fake tone, but condescendence was visibly woven into every word. She was playing with me, knowing I was at my worst.
I shivered, trying not to give her the satisfaction of showing any emotion, trying not to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was affecting me.
"But, what about Alec? He and Jace are best friends. Is he in on it top?" I questioned, still not exactly thinking clearly. Really, who would be when they found out one of their closest friends had been against them from the beginning?
"Don't worry about that, dearie. Alec wouldn't do something like this. He is considered normal. I am what is considered a sociopath. Never really cared about others, to be honest. Couldn't muster it, couldn't understand it. I find it marvelous, if we're being honest. Never having to worry about emotional ties, never having to be influenced by feelings for others. It really set me forward." she admitted, and there was not a trace of anything in her voice to hint that she was lying.
I tried to keep her talking, asking questions I'd think someone would ask in my situation. Really, I was inching out of the bed, getting ready to fight her. I spied the window. It'd be dangerous, and I would probably only have one shot considering how loud it would be, but I would break it open, find help. Get out of that hellhole. In a test of pure strength, Isabelle would beat me a thousand times over. In a test of speed and hitting her in places that would send her sprawling, I had a chance. My brother had taught me that people usually go to protect their face. So, I would hit her somewhere painful, like the stomach.
Finally, I slid into a standing position. Pulled out of her smug reverie, Isabelle tried to grab at my arm. She noticed the cut on my arm that was still healing, and scratched at it viciously, and pain rippled through it. I went to knee her in the stomach, but I hesitated as my brain still registered her as a friend, and she immediately took advantage by grabbing my leg and throwing me against the fall. She jumped on top of me, pinning me down, but I shot my head up and bit her shoulder.
Howling, she jumped back a bit, and I put us into the opposite positions. I dug my knee into her stomach, doing my best to press as hard as I could. With my small fists, I landed small blows anywhere and everywhere. After a few minutes, she was breathing hard and had gone a bit limp.
I jumped up, knowing there wasn't much time. I put as much power that was left into my fist into one hit, and smashed the window. Jagged edges were everywhere, and as I climbed out, pieces of glass easily slid into me, making a thousand cuts ranging from tiny to enormous. I was bleeding from everywhere, but it was not the time to stop. I got out of the room and noticed it looked like I ahead been in some type of abandoned Costco. The area seemed familiar, and i realized I was only just north of the city, pretty much just in the outskirts.
Pain was radiating from everywhere, tearing at my ability to stay awake. After maybe have a mile of walking, I was ready to pass out and I was sure I had left a trail of blood the whole way. Most likely, hundreds of glass shards were still embedded in many parts of my body.
My legs gave out, and I barely managed to drag myself along for a hundred feet or so. That was it, I was done. If I could move an inch, I would've, but it just didn't seem possible. For about ten minutes, I just lay there on the road, trying to stay awake, hoping a car would pass. Finally, I tried to keep my eyes open as one did. It was red, one I recognized. It almost looked like... Like Jace's car. It abruptly stopped, and Jace and Simon sprinted out. Everything was blurry. Maybe I was crying from pain, or maybe it was raining. I couldn't really tell. As I finally drifted off, my name was said in two different voices. First, disbelieving and whispered, and then desperate and yelled. Comforted by the fact that I possibly wouldn't have to wake up again, I fell asleep, maybe for the last time, maybe not.