I know I was going to update Thursday, but I had terrible writers block for the last half of the story. Here it is though!
This is an all Clary P.O.V. chapter.
And remember that the rating is changed to M now.
Hope you like.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters, not even our lovely stalker. ;)
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Clary's P.O.V.
Oh hell no! I think to myself as Isabelle Lightwood plops herself down on my floor and asks me about my problems. I need to talk to her about her problems and how she thinks she can just barge right into my closed off safe-haven from everything that has happened in the last few days.
But I'm about to tell her to GTFO until I see her eyes are locked on my wall. A look of...amazement?...is settled on her flawless face. She likes it...that's for sure.
But there are more pressing matters to attend to than my artistic abilities.
"Are you here for something important? Because I have a painting I would like to finish." I say, trying to make it forceful to only have it sound soft and childish. I mentally scold myself. I should be yelling, screaming for her to get out. She shouldn't be up here. But I couldn't do that to Izzy.
She looks back at me, wonder and amazement still in her dark eyes until she turns serious.
"Um...uh...Yes." She stutters, then spits out: "I need to talk to you. About...you."
I look at her, a bit afraid that she found out about all the notes. She must have. Why else would she be here?
But just to be sure, I ask, "Uh, what about me?"
She doesn't even wait a beat before asking, "What's up with you lately?"
She then takes a seat on the floor before inspecting it from above.
Well, this IS an art room. Your fault that you came in here in the first place. I think to myself as I cross my legs in front of her and she continues:
"You've been acting a bit different lately, and I can tell that you're always a bit, I don't know, uncomfortable. Even around Jace."
She knows. Maybe not exactly what's up, but she noticed. Some part, a very small part, is happy that she actually noticed, but the rest of me is very upset that I couldn't hide it well enough from her.
"Come on, Clare. You need to talk about this. I know you do." She pleads with me, her eyes looking directly into mine.
Isabelle is my best friend. She will know if I'm lying, especially since I'm a terrible liar in the first place. I take a few deep breaths before saying,
"I think someone's out to get me."
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"WHAT?' Izzy yells, almost breaking my eardrums. She had burst the minute I told her my 'predicament', you could say, screaming that she needed me to answer her right now and give any information I knew of this "stalker" while pacing around like a maniac.
Though through all of this, not one tear was shed. Well, from me anyways. Izzy was letting a few loose when she started to calm down from her rampage.
Eventually, I was sitting on the floor in pretty much the same exact spot as before, Izzy on my stool by the easel, and a small stretch of silence between us.
I had finally caved to tell her anything I knew, including the first encounter when Fang (yes, we needed to giver her a name, and even though I hated it, it kept everything a bit more organized as we talked.) came from behind and threatened me.
Isabelle had finally calmed down enough to say, in the most serious tone I've ever heard from her, "Why haven't you told anyone about this...?" Her voice is quiet.
I WAS glad thats she wasn't screaming at me anymore, but this forceful whisper makes me wish she would yell. It would be less scary.
"I-I didn't th-think I needed too." I stammer out. I couldn't cry. I'm done crying.
Isabelle is quiet for a bit, then says, "Well, this isn't something that you should keep to yourself, Clary. You need to talk to someone about it, because if I was you, I wouldn't want-"
"You wouldn't what, Isabelle? To do this on your own?" I snap at her. I didn't mean to be rude about it, but I don't want to be weak. I don't need help. "Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm not you! I've got this handled and I think I'm doing okay on my own!"
"I just think that if you said something earlier-"
I cut her off again: "Well, I didn't. I didn't want to bother anyone with my little problem, but I got it."
Izzy is just staring at me now, her eyes sad. I keep my own facial expression hard. "I see." she says with no emotion, "Well, if you don't mind, I'll just leave you to..." She gestures to my still partially wet painting next to her, only to freeze when she focuses on the complicated lines that flow across the canvas. She stands slowly, and moves closer it. As she gets near enough, she extends a hand and gently grazes one of the lines with her fingertip. It comes back black.
"When did you make this?" She asks, quickly turning towards me. Her eyes wide. She looks...scared.
"Um...today." I say quietly. I don't understand what she's so freaked out about, and what my painting has to do with it, but she runs over to me and grab my wrists. Wrenching the tattered sleeves up to my elbow on my right arm, she inspects the red paint line etched below my palm
"What is this? When did this happen?" she asks, looking deeply into my emerald eyes.
"Just today." I say, my voice coming out at barely a whisper. "It's...just paint."
She then pulls my other sleeve up and looks at that mark.
"What are you doing, Clary?" she mutters quietly, mostly to herself. I don't answer, just look as some stray jet black hairs fall in front of Izzy's eyes while she looks from my wrists to the painting.
"Can you tell me what's going on Iz?" I ask her, pulling my arms from her grasp and folding them before my chest.
She looks at where my arms once were to the painting, then to my face, eyes wide. "You...you don't see it?" she questions me sternly.
"See what? All I see is my best friend freaking out over a half finished painting and some small insignificant lines on my arms." I know I'm lying about the 'insignificant lines.' These were serious, but I needed to know why they were so serious to Isabelle too.
"What is your painting of, Clary?" Isabelle asks me with a strong voice. I shrug, not knowing myself. "Tell me now Clary. What are you painting?"
"I don't know, Iz! They're just lines! I came up here and just started painting! There was no outline. It's just a bunch of lines!"
Understanding my point, she backs up and says, "You obviously paint your feelings, Clare. Look a little closer." and with that she exits through the trapdoor as quickly as she arrived, leaving me alone once again more confused than ever.
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The painting WILL be revealed in future chapters!
I'm really starting to like this story, though it's a very serious matter between the characters.
ALSO! I have decided to open up the P.O.V. selection! SO, if you have a recomendation, please feel free to review a name. I CAN do our stalker's P.O.V. again, if you would like, but no promises that I will do every P.O.V.
ON THE OTHER HAND! I would really like to know what you think of the story! I would love if you, my lovely readers, would leave a review. Even if you just said "Hi." I'm alright with that. BUT I will not update unless I get 3 reviews! Honestly...just type random letters and hit send if you really want.
See you all soon!
~shadowwarrior898