Hi guys, I don't know if you read the review I left for all of the readers. If you haven't, please read it. I am trying desperately hard to write more, and given that I am off of school until the New Year, I should have more time to write, but I am visiting family, however I will post a chapter as a Christmas gift for you all! Remember this. I love you all! Thanks soooo much!

The bright lanterns cast shadows behind me as I trudge through the sludgy snow. The narrow boardwalk is deserted of shoppers, except for a few tight-knit couples holding hands and making their way to the Christmas parade in the town centre. I just wish I was one of them. Remembering him as his life disappeared in my arms. All I could feel was guilt.

Walking in to the dilapidated building, I felt like I could scream. I grabbed the wall for support as I passed piles of dead werewolves. We didn't bother to knock on the scorched door, it was barely hanging on its hinges and any occupants would have ran for their lives. I rubbed my temples, still tired from the Endarkened attack. Where was that bloody idiot? We had split up to look for him. I hated the idea, but it saved time and I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here. Despite the massacre, my senses could tell that something wasn't right. I decided it was the smell. Almost like blood, but all of the bodies had been burnt beyond recognition. It was like when your nose bleeds and blood runs down your throat. Turning the corner, I closed my eyes. There was the blood.

Standing for a couple seconds, my stomach churning, eyes closed. All of a sudden I wanted to be small and to crawl into someone's lap and tell them about the blood. I wanted them to pat me on the head and say to wait, and they would see about it. But I'm sixteen now. I had to see about it myself.

Forcing my eyes to open, I made myself look at that blood. I created even more pain for myself. I opened that door to my vulnerable heart. After hating him for an unbelievably long amount of time, it all came down to this. I made myself look at my boyfriend's pale body.

I didn't cry. I couldn't cry, because that thing could not be him. The two things, that pale body with the hole through its chest, and my boyfriend, could not be connected in my mind. They just couldn't. I staggered over to him and slid him onto my lap. It was almost like usual, only my whole body was beginning to shake. I shook until I could hardly see, and my insides were only feeling worse and worse. The blood, the blood...I shut my eyes and it was still there, pasted on the insides of the lids. I opened them, and I brushed the hair from his face, my hands shaking so hard I could barely see them. A great sob escaped me, and I covered my face with shaking hands as a great tremor overtook me. I mumbled incoherent things through I hands and choked on my sobs, and I tried to make the blood and the pale thing with the hole through the heart go away.

Night was falling. The setting sun's red rays lit up the sky above the western horizon. I could see an oil tanker making its way across the sea just on the horizon. I couldn't stand. Not anymore. Stumbling to the nearest bench I sat and stared blankly at the ocean. Thinking about what he said, "The past always matters. That's what they tell you when they join the Praetor. You can't forget the things you did I the past, or you'll never learn from them." The waves were lapping against the pillars of the boardwalk. The sounds were soothing. They were like weed. They gave me high. They took away all the pain. They always did. They were the only reason I moved here. Across the country, far from my home. From those who I loved.

Soon the sun disappeared below the horizon and the sky turned dark but I stayed still and sat on that very boardwalk gazing at the place where the sun went down. Sunsets are mesmerizing as the first time. They always were. Only when the mosquitoes started coming in great number was I brought back to reality.

The night creatures were already busy with their activities. On my left where the shuttered up shops were, I could hear the shrill cries of the cicadas and other insects. On my right the waves broke gently on the shore sending up sprays of phosphorescent surf.

The sounds and sights of nature were wonderful. The noise of occasional traffic along a road nearby was the only blemish to the otherwise perfect natural surroundings. I was more of blemish than that. I was always a blemish. The one person who ever thought differently died in my arms. After I had denied him honesty. I never wanted to deny him the truth. I didn't love him anymore. He ruined my whole life. Why did he think a person like me, so irrevocably broken, would ever love again?

However all bittersweet things must come to an end. The moon's light was no longer enough. I could feel the shadows reminding me of those I lost. Darkness regained its mastery. I walked along the boardwalk towards the centre of town. I began to run. My hair flying behind me like a demented flag. Crabs both large and small scurried away at our approach. A gentle breeze rustled among the coconut palms. The black sky was full of glistening stars. It felt good to be alive. Unlike him.

Him. I wanted to scream. Why did Clary get to kill Sebastian? He wronged so many people. Why did she get to be the only one to take revenge? It wasn't fair. Jordan deserved so much more. So much more than me. Why hadn't he chosen one of the skinny girls with hipster glasses? Why me, a rounded girl who was so broken that I couldn't bring myself to spare him pain. If he had, he could be alive. He wouldn't have needed to protect Simon to reach me, he would be alive. A living and breathing person. Not realising where I was anymore, a horrible feeling began to build up in my stomach as I turned around. All I saw was two lights. Two awfully bright, approaching lights. Everything went.

Simon P.O.V

I was standing on the penthouse floor of the Carolina, taking in the view of Manhattan.

All the creatures who live here scramble curiously to and fro during bright hours. But at night long after the hustle of people the city becomes still. There are always people around. Just less so during darkness. The remaining city lights started to become more apparent, like a bed of electric flowers. I prefer the dark and don't actually understand their motives. Perhaps it is the opposite for them than for me.

I could see across Central Park to the Met museum. High above the smells of humans, their nests rise out of the ground like trees and cliffs. The lights ablaze where any predator could see them. Foolish, really. I can't seem to stay away though, it is just so beautiful. The blues resemble the daytime sky, the greens the trees and grass. The yellows resemble honey and dandelions, the reds the colour of apples and cherries. Marvellous. The jagged outlines of their square buildings cut into the sky and I watch the big metal birds soar high above. Blinking lights red and green.

Looking around me, I thought about how my time was always swallowed by things such as promotions, tours, signings and appearances. Still. It was a good problem to have. Eventually the darkening sky turned the window to a mirror and I could see my reflection. Tousled hair, jeans, vintage t-shirt; and then the background. There were acres of hardwood floor, gleaming steel, leather furniture, and an elegant, gold-framed painting on the wall. It was Clary's favourite, a Chagall. It was all soft roses and blues and greens. It was incongruous against the apartment's modernity.

There was a vase of hydrangeas on the kitchen island. A gift from his mother, for his gig with Stepping Razor. A tiny note attached read "I love you, I'm proud of you." Blinking again in confusion, if they were from his mother, why were they hydrangeas? His favourite flower was roses, and she knew that. Turning away from the window, I took a closer look at the vase. However, they were roses, white roses. They always had been.

A rattle of keys startled me. Then a door opening. A petite red-head with a brilliant smile entered the apartment. It was Clary. "Oh, my god," half laughing, half out of breath. Pushing to door closed, she leant against it and sank down to the floor. "The lobby is a zoo. Press, photographers; it's going to be crazy going out tonight". Finally rising and crossing the room, she laid her keys on the table. She was wearing a long, yellow silk dress embroidered with colourful butterflies. Her hair was pinned up with butterfly clips. She looked so warm, open and loving. As she neared him, she slowly put her arms up, and he went to kiss her. Just like every day when she came home.

Clary smelled the same, of chalk and perfume, her fingers were smudged with colour. She began to wind her fingers in his hair as they kissed, she tugged him down, laughing against his mouth as he nearly overbalanced.

"You're going to have to start wearing heels, Fray," I said, pressing my lips against her cheek. "I hate heels. You'll either have to deal or buy me a portable ladder," she said, letting me go. "Unless you want to leave me for a really tall groupie." I smiled at her humour. "Never," I said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Would a really tall groupie know all my favourite foods? Remember when I had a bed shaped like a race car? Know how to beat me mercilessly at Scrabble? Be willing to put up with Matt and Kirk and Eric?" She smiled knowingly. "A groupie would more than put up with Matt and Kirk and Eric." I scoffed. "Be nice," I said, and grinned down at her. "You're stuck with me." Clary sighed. "I'll survive," she said, plucking my glasses off and setting them on the table. The eyes she turned up to me were dark and wide. This time the kiss was more heated. I wound my arms around her, pulling her against me as she whispered, "I love you; I've always loved you." My insides felt warm at her declaration of love. "I love you too," I said. "God, I love you, Isabelle."

I felt her stiffen in my arms, and then the world around him seemed to sprout black lines like shattered glass. I heard a high pitched whine in my ears and staggered back, tripping, falling, not hitting the ground but spinning forever through the dark.

Dun, dun, dun. I am trying to write more, and have longer chapters. *They say but then they will probably forget because they will be reading endless amounts of fanfic.* I joke. Not.

Also, I don't know if you noticed, but I didn't say who's perspective the first part was. I did this on purpose. Comment below who's you think it is. The first person to get it right, or if you come up with a strange and interesting answer, will get to add in an element to the story!

Thanks for reading and go favourite if you liked it, even if you didn't. Favourite it. Now. I'm joking...

TriFangirls - IHxx