Cold, slimy fingers trailed across Clary's cheek, she shuddered pulling away from the unnerving touch. She felt a hot breath on her neck, a small helpless noise escaped from her lips. Squeezing her eyes shut she felt tears run streaming down her face.

" Mmm baby no need to cry." That voice, God that voice, it grated across her spine, drew tremors from her body. It was evil. Pure evil, veiled with a fake charm that made Clary sick. She had to get away, she had too. Struggling to get free, her horror grew when she realized that not only was she being held captive by steel arms that wouldn't budge, but every where she looked she saw the man.

A dozen men were all around her, all dressed in the same deceptively normal looking polo, all with the same leering grin. She was caught, alone. There would be no help. With the overwhelming fear growing in her Clary let loose a bloodcurdling scream-

"Clary! Wake up, come on it's just a dream."

With a deep breath Clary opened her eyes and saw her best friend leaning over her, an anxious expression clear on her face. Just a dream. A dream she had been having over and over since that night. Logically she knew that the encounter wasn't that bad, it could have been- she didn't even want to contemplate what it could have been. Regardless of the fact that she hadn't really been harmed Clary had been dealing with that night for the past week.

"It's been a week Clary, and you haven't slept through the night without waking up screaming. Sweetie I know you don't want to talk about it but I really think you need to." Isabelle chewed on her lower lip, not meeting Clary's eyes. This wasn't the first time she had suggested this, and each time Clary's answer had been the same.

"No. Now way Izzy, I can't go run to a shrink and say 'I almost got attacked, but nothing happened' there are people out there with real problems, people who weren't saved. They need the help, not me. I just need time, I'll be fine soon."

But deep inside Clary didn't know how true that was. That night after the attack she had ran back to the library, dragging Isabelle to their dorm room before she broke down. Retelling the whole horrific story, and the bizarre ending where the strange boy appeared from nowhere and saved her, then walked off into the night. Isabelle had begged for her to go to the police but Clary had been adamant; no police, no one else needed to know about this but them. Besides what could they do, the description of her attacker fit just about every male student on campus, and she hadn't been hurt just shaken up.

And though she told her best friend that she would overcome this with time, so far she hadn't gotten any better. She still walked around campus with a nervousness that made her seem insane; jumping at any sound, constantly looking around her, and this was during broad daylight. So far she hadn't been able to go out at night again. Her finals had passed in a blur, Clary wasn't even sure she had been writing about the right subject during some of the tests. And any other time the thought of that would leave her in a panic, but right now she just couldn't bring herself to worry about grades or school. All she could see was the dark eyes of the man that held her, feel his disgusting breath on her neck. With another shudder Clary forced herself to get up and out of bed. She had found that if she was distracted it was much harder for the memories to appear.

"Clary what happened to you was serious, you are allowed to be freaked out. I hate seeing you like this, so scared, always jumpy, this isn't like you."

Doing her best to ignore her, Clary rummaged through her closet looking for some semblance of clean clothes, finally giving a defeated sigh and just dragging a sweatshirt over the tank top she had slept in.

"I know you are worried about me, and I know you want to help, but right now the only thing I need is time. I promise if it doesn't get any better soon I will talk to someone. OK?"

Clary looked at her best friend hoping her statement seemed true. She had no intention of talking to anyone regardless of if she got better or not. What would talking do anyways? It's not like just saying it out loud would rid her of this awful feeling, like it could wipe the disgusting memory from her head. But Isabelle seemed content, some of the worry leaving her face.

"OK well I have to go to work, but if you need me or need anything call me."

She grabbed her bag and walked towards the door, when she reached it she turned around with a smile, the normal mischievousness returning to her eyes.

"Especially if your sexy hero makes another appearance."

And with that she was gone, Clary could hear her laughter echoing down the hallway. With a groan she threw herself back onto the bed. Why had she told Isabelle that the mystery boy was cute? More memories appeared, this time of golden eyes that glimmered with anger. He had appeared like an avenging angel, coming out of nowhere and saving her without even breaking a sweat. Jace. Clary felt her face flush, remembering how his hand felt completely wrapping around hers, the way his eyes had glanced over her making sure she wasn't hurt. Shaking her head she forced the thoughts down, she didn't have time to sit around and fantasize about some boy, besides he was probably just as useless as the rest of them were.

Although finals were over and she could technically take a break from school, that was the furthest thing on her mind. She already had her schedule for next semester and planned on getting a head start, with a determined mindset Clary got her schedule and walked out of the door. She would go to the bookstore, pick up her books and spend the rest of the day reading about chemical reactions and the nervous system. Exciting.

She made her way to the front entrance of the dorm building and looked out of the glass door. It was a nice day out, students were covering campus giddy with the knowledge that they had no more work to do until next semester. As she reached out to open the door Clary felt the now familiar dread rise up inside her, causing her stomach to roll and her breath to quicken. This was ridiculous she scolded herself, it was a bright sunny day and people were everywhere, nothing was going to happen to her. With a deep breath Clary placed her now shaking hand back on the door, and forced herself to step outside.

Cold air brushed against her face, and she was assaulted with the sounds of a college campus. Loud noises, music somewhere off in the distance, groups of people all talking at once. Her palms began to sweat and her breathing was growing more and more frantic. Forcing herself to calm down Clary took a few unsteady steps toward the bookstore. She could do this. She would do this. She couldn't stay hidden up in her room for the rest of her life. As she walked she became more confident, soon her breathing was more steady. Still she found herself glancing behind her, but all she saw was the normal gathering of students aimlessly walking around.

Soon the bookstore was in sight, Clary quickened her pace wanting to get this over with a quickly as possible. Just as she had almost reached the steps of the building she felt a hand tap on her shoulder.

A scream escaped from her lips and she stumbled, falling down on the ground. She quickly scrambled backwards the hard pavement burning t

he skin on her hands. Whimpers fell from her lips. Not again please God not again. Pure panic washed over her, Clary wasn't aware of her surroundings all she knew was that the man had come back for her and this time there would be no getting away.

"Hey uh are you alright? I was just going to ask you to look at our table."

The clearly puzzled voice drew Clary out of her fog. Looking up she realized that this was not her attacker, instead it was some sorority girl. This based on the symbols splashed on her too tight shirt and the fact that she looked nearly identical to the group of girls standing behind her. She stood in front of a table clearly trying to get more people to join, bright banners declared that they were "the hottest sorority on campus" . The rest of the girls stood further back looking at her like she had grown two heads.

Heat rushed over Clary's face, she knew her usually pale skin was now a deep red, conveying her embarrassment. With a muttered apology she picked herself up and walked back towards her room, the books now long forgotten. Behind her she heard giggles and whispered words, and her blush deepened. Keeping her head down she nearly ran all the way back to her room, needing the comfort of familiar surroundings. Once she was back in the dorm complex she let out a relieved sigh, and ran her shaking hands through her hair. What was wrong with her? The way she acted back there, it was like she had lost her mind.

Not wanting to think about it any more Clary made her way up to her room. Opening up the door the familiar scent wrapped around her. This was home. Books covered her side of the room, toppling over in unsteady piles. While Isabelle's side was a war zone of shiny clothing and makeup bottles strode everywhere.

Some of the stress left her, as she allowed herself to fall down to the ground, her back resting against the bed and knees curled up to her chest. Her forehead rested on her knees and she allowed the tears she had been holding back to fall. This wasn't like her. Clary didn't cry, she didn't run away. She was tough, hard, her dad had always called her "his little fighter". But that night Clary hadn't fought, she just stood there shaking, letting that man touch her.

Deep down she knew that was the part that bothered her, it wasn't the fact that she was nearly attacked, although that was scary enough. It was the fact that she had been so helpless, so useless. There was nothing she could have done to protect herself and that made her bitter with self loathing. Angrily wiping away her tears she forced herself to get up, laying around feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to help anything. No more. She needed to move on with her life, yes the night had been terrible but now it was over.

With that in mind she made her way back out of her room with the intentions of finding something to eat for lunch. As she shut her door the bulletin board across the hall caught her attention. It was a place where people could put up advertisements about upcoming events and things of that sort. Right in the middle of the board was a bright yellow flyer, but the color wasn't what had caught her attention, it was what it said. Right in the middle in large black letters it stated;

"Feel Helpless?"

.

Unknowingly Clary began walking towards it, she grabbed the paper and ripped it from the board reading what else it had to say.

Self Defense Class

Learn how to be in control and protect yourself in dangerous situations

Followed by information on when and where the class would take place. Clary let out a deep breath. This is what she needed. This was the answer to all of her problems. She would go to this class, and no longer be helpless. All the worrying and fear would go away, she would be in control, would take care of herself. With a smile she folded the paper neatly in half and stuck it in her bag.

This was a terrible idea. Clary stood in front of a small building, the sign proclaimed "Guy's Gym" and distantly Clary wondered who Guy was. When Isabelle had came home from work Clary had shown her the flyer and her best friend warmed to the idea even faster than she had.

"This is perfect!" Isabelle's eyes shined with excitement and her normally perfect hair was mussed from her playing with it, something she often did when this worked up.

"I don't know I mean it's something to think about" It had now been hours since she first saw the flyer and her confidence in the idea had dwindled. Sure it seemed like a great idea but her? Learning to fight? She was more likely to get dressed up and go to a wild party with Isabelle. But after an entire day of being bantered and pleaded with Clary was here. Standing in front of a very unimpressive building.

The night before she had tossed and turned, knowing that as soon as she did fall asleep she would be drawn into the reoccurring nightmare. So today her bright green eyes were much dimmer, and the bags under them were so prominent that she almost looked sticky. Her bright red curls had been tamed into a ponytail and she was dressed in her normal leggings and sweatshirt. Looking up once again at the building Clary began to nervously bite her thumb nail. After a couple more minutes of standing outside she realized how idiotic she was being.

She was already her, not point in going back now. She would go in, look around see what she thought about it and if it didn't seem like the thing for her then she could leave. Simple as that. Feeling much more confident that she had made her decision she straightened her back and walked into the building.

It was dimly lit and she was immediately hit the normal gym smell; sweat, old socks, and some underlying smell of floor cleaner. Looking around she realized it was just a normal gym, different areas set up with different machines. A few elderly ladies leisurely strolled on the treadmills doing more talking than exercising and in the corner a group of college kids lifted weights egging each other to lift more.

In the back of the room there was an area covered in mats and a small group of people had gathered there. Assuming that was where she needed to be she started walking over. The group seemed to consist of just a few girls her age, still not sure that she was going to stay she remained a few steps away from the group in case she needed to leave.

Looking around the room she realized there was a different instructor for each person, all wearing matching black shirts with the word trainer in white written across the chest. Most of them were older men, but there were a few that looked to be in their 20's all with crew cuts, and looking like they had a military background. Just as she was about to walk forward and join the group she heard someone clear their throat behind her, clearly trying to get her attention.

She turned around and let out a small gasp. There leaning against the wall looking just as calm and collected as the first time she saw him was her rescuer, Jace. Her mind seemed to freeze not able to make a connection of why he could possibly be here and before she could stop it she blurted out her first thought.

"Are you following me?"

Jace let out a clearly surprised chuckle and shook his head.

"I'm afraid not." Standing up straight he gestured to his shirt, which with a growing horror Clary realized was the same as the other trainers were wearing. His eyes glittered in amusement.

"So what do you say Red, you going to let me train you?