AN: Okay. So I wrote the beginning of this chapter a little while ago for Clary but I had to tweak it to suit Jordyn. I did experience feelings like this for a little while earlier this year. Like, around August, Septemberish. I also wrote this when I was slightly done with life so hope you enjoy it.

WARNING for young people self-harming. If you don't like it, skip over the whole first part of this chapter until the first line break. :)

-Jordyn P.O.V-

I stare at my wrists, cocking my head. I've heard Mom and Dad talk about her self-harming before. I'm not quite sure what it feels like but I'm willing to try. It seems like the physical pain takes away the emotional pain.

I grab the scissors that I keep on my desk. They're not that sharp so they won't cut deep anyways. It'll be fine.

I make the first cut, quickly and sharply, for the first thing that I felt.

The first thing that I felt was betrayal. And that was from my very own twin sister, Charlotte Emma Herondale. I roll my eyes. Just when I was beginning to trust her so much more, she wrecks it. I thought that we had mutual feelings about Dad but I guess not. It's not surprising for me, considering that she's done this many times before in the past. This time, though, it was over something much more serious.

I make the second cut, my tears clouding my vision this time so it's not as clean as the first one was.

The second thing that I felt was hurt. I was hurt that my own mother just brought him back like it was nothing. I was hurt that everyone just welcomed him back into the family like nothing bad had ever happened. They just accepted it and "moved on". Though I can never forget how saddened my mom was when he left us. He hit her. For God's sake, he hit her. Just like her dad used to do.

I bite my tongue and try to calm my erratic breathing. I look out of my window, staring at the carefree birds flying past. Shaking my head, I make the final cut.

This one is for my insecurities. I've always been the black sheep in my family. My mom is happy, for the most part. She's always smiling and enjoying life as it passes. Charlotte is permanently excited about something or grinning about whatever. She's never had a bad day in her life. My father, before he left, was one self-confident man. He kept his head held high, no matter what. He, again, was always smirking or laughing, never letting anything get to him. Aunt Isabelle is constantly bouncing on her toes, just like her daughter. I swear, their whole family is hyper. Uncle Simon is a little more subdued but he's generally a happy person.

Uncle Magnus is flashy. He's crazy about glitter and sparkles. He also never seems to have a single care in the world. Uncle Magnus doesn't care what other people think of him. He just lives his life as it is. Uncle Alec is a quiet man, although he always has that mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Whenever he's around people, he laughs and smiles, a bright aura surrounding him.

Auntie Seelie is a bright person, generally. From head to toe, she's always wearing bright colors and that seems to improve her mood. Her smile is as bright as the sun and she never frowns, ever. Uncle Jonathan is funny. His humor and sarcastic, though genuine at times, kindness is what draws people to him. His humor keeps people engaged when they talk to him. It's good for all of us.

And then there's me. I don't like bright colors. Sure, I used to when I was 5 or whatever. When I hit the age where I could start dressing myself and making my own choices, that's when it all turned around. I started wearing black. It soon became my favorite color. My mom was slightly concerned about me and what was happening but my dad just told her to let it go. That's the only thing that I like about my father right now. Once I reached age 9, I started spacing out from my family. They didn't like me doing it but I did, despite their protests. Now, at age 11, I'm self-harming and haven't eaten in 3 days. That's slightly depressing.

I grab a tissue from my bedside table when I realize that the blood from my wrists is about to drip onto my white carpet. I groan and dab at my wrists, squinting my eyes.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door.

"Jordyn?" The voice speaks. "Can I come in?"

-Charlotte's P.O.V-

I stare at the door to my sister's room, biting my lip. She hasn't answered my question just yet and I'm getting kind of worried.

The whole "loving daughter" thing was an act to make my mom happy. I need her to just have Jack so that she can stop endangering both herself and her baby. I sigh.

"What do you want, Charlotte?" her voice comes from the other side of the door.

"I just want to talk." I look down at my feet.

"Well, it's a little to late for that don't you think?" she sneers.

"Please, Jordyn," I beg.

"How about no." She replies and I know that the conversation is over. I turn around and walk down the stairs, shaking my head.

I hear a deep chuckle from behind me. I turn around, confused, but then everything goes black.

-Clary's P.O.V-

I look skeptically at the stairs. Charlie went to go and check on Jordyn ages ago. I walk up the stairs and find a passed-out Charlie. I shake my head, smiling. She hasn't been eating a whole lot these days and I worry about her. She's also been hallucinating. It's a weird thing for her but I guess that it's because of her worry about her sister.

"Jace?!" I yell down the stairs.

"Clary?!" He yells back up.

"Can you come and help me with this?"

"Sure!" I can hear Jace's footsteps echo throughout the house. "What's up- oh."

He spots Charlotte on the floor, her face pale, and her blonde hair spread around her. He shakes his head and picks her up, bridal style.

"I'll take her to her room." I nod my head, grinning at him.

"Thanks, Jace."

"No problem."

He walks towards Charlie's room and closes the door behind him.

I don't enjoy being pregnant for this long. It seems like it's been years but, in reality, it's only been 8 months. My mom said that I'd probably go into premature labor, considering all of the stress that I've been under for the last couple of weeks.

A light chime resounds around the house.

"That must be Isabelle," I mumble, waddling down the stairs. I fling open the door and Isabelle is standing there, biting her lip. I beam.

"Hey, Izzy," I say, giving her a hug. She pushes me back by the shoulders and stares at me.

"God, you're huge," she shakes her head.

"Shut up," I swat her arm and close the door behind her.

"So, where's your troubled child?" She smirks at me.

I roll my eyes.

"She's not troubled, she's just-"

"Troubled?" Isabelle interrupts me.

"No, shut up," I smack her upside the head. "She's just having a hard time... adjusting to the new things around here."

"Oh, yeah," she says. "Speaking of which, where's my brother?"

"Right here," Jace walks down the stairs, his face impassive. "Hello, Isabelle."

"What the hell?" Sh whispers to me. Izzy clears her throat and puts on a poker face as well.

"Jonathan," she addresses him with a nod.

"What're you doing here?"

"Clary's my best friend, what do you mean 'what're you doing here'?"

Jace rolls his eyes.

"Whatever." He then walks away, towards the kitchen.

Isabelle turns to me.

"I'm going to follow him, so don't try to stop me."

I raise my hands and walk towards the stairs.

"Do what you like."

Charlie's room is across the hall from Jordyn's and that's where I'm heading. Jordyn needs some time alone. I understand that.

I knock on the door.

"Charlie? You awake, sweetheart?"

"Come in, Mom," she squeaks.

I walk in her room and she seems to be talking to someone.

"Baby, who are you talking to?"

She giggles.

"He's really nice. His name is Valentine."

AN: So this story is gonna get a little weird. Sorry if I'm digressing whatsoever throughout the story.

Merry late Christmas to those who celebrate it. If you don't, happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or anything like that.

Hope you guys have an amazing day. Love you guys so much.

-Sosebo