Hey, so I had an epiphany in the shower the other day! And I just had to write it down! Don't worry, Demolishing the Social Pyramid is still being written, so don't fret! But I had to write it down; it won't be long maybe a threeshot possibly shorter. But here's the intro; tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: The Characters are own by Cassandra Clare. Plot is all me. And Jace. . . he belongs to her. I know. . . I hate it too.
Jace: I do not belong to anyone!
Clary: Jace?
Jace: Yes, sweetie?
Clary: Could you go get me something to drink?
Jace: Of course!
Clary: Good boy.
Life is a tricky thing. It could be one of the most breathtaking experiences; like the sun setting in the horizon or the sounds of the waves hitting the shore. Sometimes we don't see the small things, like the feel of grass in the morning; the dew squishing between your toes or the taste of lemonade on a hot day.
Life could be tricky. Not always.
People forget the little things; the things that are most important. I was one of those people. I forgot the things that mattered; the things that made sense. I forgot what the meaning of life was; I forgot about family and love.
But she gave it back.
You see this is more than my story; this is about a girl. She was no more special than any other girl from the outside, with bright red curls that she could never seem to tame to the freckles on her nose. But she was so much more than she seemed.
This is her story.
Our story.
It was a rainy morning; the day I met her. Now, thinking back to all those years ago it was wrong for the sky to be crying. It shouldn't have been dreary and gloomy, not when she was around but it was. Though, she seemed to generate her own sunlight; she basked in it throughout everything and I think that's what made her so special; her ability for happiness. I had been standing with my friends around my locker because it was a cultural gathering of sorts. Like a rite of passage, in a way.
See, I ruled the school with an iron fist and, back then, it made all the sense in the world for it to be that way. I was the best looking kid there was, my mom told me every morning along with the entire female population of Kingsley—that was our high school—which wasn't saying a lot since we had about 10 girls that "mattered" at the school. Back then I was floating on cloud nine, at least I thought I was, the ladies were at my beck an' call—I had a different one every night— and the world seemed to be in the palm of my hand. It really wasn't but I felt it was.
I still remember the way she looked when she walked in that day, not because she was extravagantly beautiful but because I'd never seen anyone so . . . free. I couldn't think of the word then; all I could think of was the mix-matched outfit she wore, the random shit around her neck and the paint that coated her hands and arms. Image was everything then and Clarissa Graymark was not at all the right image for Kingsley.
But only because I couldn't see she was absolutely perfect already.
Jace looked at Sebastian Verlac with what could best be described as a look of contempt. "That's just the way life works."
Sebastian threw Jace a laugh as he hung his arm around his large shoulders. "Yeah, well, let me know if you ever tire of living in your life," As if on cue a group of girls walked by; they giggled as they waved flirtatiously and fluttered their eyelashes at Jace. "Because I would, sure as hell, love to live it."
Jace tossed his head back, his mane of curls falling with him as Sebastian's arm fell away from him. "No chance."
That's when she walked in. She wasn't wearing a rain coat that day, though the forecast had said there would be rain the week before the one we had been on. But then she never had a rain coat, I wouldn't learn until later that she didn't even want one in the first place.
Her hair hung down her back, slick with rain; she was completely drenched from the downpour and yet she never complained. Her shirt hung tight to her and made her figure noticeable for the first time since ever and her ripped and stained jeans had to be uncomfortable but she never showed it (if it even did at all). In fact, she looked happy to be soaking wet and in the middle of a clustered hallway full of judgmental teens.
I remember everything about her; all too clearly.
"Look what the cat dragged in," Sebastian said as he gave the petite girl a disgusted look. "Literally, she looks like a drowned cat. Why doesn't she just wear a damn coat?"
"Because she's weird." Jordan Kyle answered, his shaggy hair falling into his face. "I mean, only someone crazed would move into old man Hodge's place up on Mount Angel."
"No," Sebastian shook his head. "Only someone crazy would be related to old man Hodge." He said as he threw another disgusted look at Clary, who gave him no notice as she smiled and continued on to her locker.
I thought she was trying to hide her feelings; the hurt and the pain she felt but I was wrong. Clary was never sad; her smile was genuine. Her bright green eyes always held that far off look and it wasn't until later that I realized it was because she was always in her own world.
A world I found I wanted to be in too.
At the time, I couldn't have agreed more. See, Old Man Hodge was like a bag of cats; you could practically smell crazy on the guy. The stories said that he was a priest that moved here with his pregnant wife, not too long ago, and that she miscarried. Hodge had been so upset he threw himself into a drunken stupor and began to beat his wife; who found solace in another man's arms because of it. Hodge had been so depressed and angry, that when she wife came back to get her things he killed her before he tried to kill himself. From that point it gets a little sketchy; some say that the angels in heaven were in outrage at a man of God so they cursed him to remain in that house on Mount Angel for the rest of eternity.
No one every saw him leave his house either; and not too long after the rumors flew Clarissa Graymark showed up in our small town. Soon, she was the talk of it but she never gave anything away; didn't relish in the gossip other girls did and because of it she was outcast. But she never looked sadden by that fact; she only looked more powerful.
"The way I see it," Jace said a smirk on his face. "She is to be seen, not heard. Besides, I have bigger things to be thinking about."
Jordan pushed his shoulder against Jace's, making him slightly fall back into the locker behind him. "Yeah, like the scouts that are gonna be at the game tomorrow night?"
"Or how hard you're gonna do, Aline Penhallow, tomorrow night after the game?" Sebastian said with a devilish grin as the guy's gave out wolf calls and shoved Jace around, who had a permanent smirk on his face.
"Both." Jace grinned as they guys let out loud cry's and huddled down the hallway after him; making as loud of a ruckus as they possibly could.
I lied that day. It would be the first in a stream of lies I would tell for her—though she never asked me to—this just being the beginning. See, I didn't have "bigger" things to be thinking about. I didn't know it then but she was the light to my universe, the sun that lit up my entire sky.
I'm Jonathon Christopher Herondale, but everyone calls me Jace, and this is more than just my story.
This was our story, Clary's and I.
This is a story about a boy that got lost and the girl that guided him back home.
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