As one great author or another once said, "Things will get 110% worse before they get 10% better." That 'author' being my English teacher in grade nine...
Well anyways... ENJOY :D
I lay on my back, staring at the dusty and grey ceiling of my old room. There were patches on the ceiling where I had used to have glow in the dark monster shapes stuck up, but they had recently been ripped off. My photos were gone – some I took with me to Philadelphia were gone, and the rest Valentine had probably thrown out. Even my bookcase, that had only held a few books before, was bare.
I replayed over the scenario that had landed me back in this hellhole of a house.
"I wasn't offering, I was ordering." Valentine growled.
My blood ran cold and I clenched my teeth. "I refuse."
With a sigh, Valentine uncrossed his arms and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was willing to negotiate your mother's care with you, so long as you came home to discuss it with me. But I suppose if you're adamantly against it, there's nothing I can do."
I balled my hands into fists. Who did he think he was? Since when was he in the position to make threats about whether or not he would kill my mother? What kind of a monster was he?
Reluctantly, I had agreed.
When I had told Cece the news, I had expected at least a twinge of excitement. Instead I got a stony expression and a defiant glare at Valentine's back. I wasn't sure what it was that I had done to piss her off so much, but I was definitely not her favourite person anymore.
And so I was nudged into the back of Valentine's shiny silver car with Cece and off we drove to my old Washington home. Valentine refused to even let me go back to Philadelphia to get my stuff. He insisted that he had clothes that would fit me and I didn't need anything else for the time being.
But staring at my empty room, I wished I had my books or my laptop or even just some of my photos. Valentine marched me into the room, much like he had used to do before we moved, and closed me in. He told me dinner would be cooked at 6 and I was left alone. I knew better than to go downstairs. It was best to stay in my room – or at least out of Valentine's sight – when he was like this. Back before we moved, I might have snuck out my window or crept over to Cece's room and watch TV in her room. Since she was a princess and Valentine was particularly fond of her, she was allowed a small box television in there.
New Jace just curled into a small ball on his plain, single bed and worried. I worried about my mother, Cece, my schoolwork and even Clary. Her argument with Seb had only still half processed in my mind, but I dared to hope that it was about me… that Seb really would back off.
When the call for dinner echoed up to my room, I pulled myself up and mustered my might for what might occur over the dinner conversation. Cece was already at the table, her head down and turned away from me. Valentine sat at the opposite end of the six-seated table, already cutting into his chicken. I sat beside Cece and as far away as I could get from Valentine.
"I know you're upset, Jace," Valentine said around a mouthful, "But please eat something. A growing boy needs his nutrients."
I looked at the white meat that I was prodding at, and took a reluctant nibble. It was good, but I couldn't bring myself to eat much at all. I opened my mouth to ask if I could be excused, but Valentine spoke over me, "Celine," he barked, "Go clean up your plate if you aren't going to eat. Leave Jace and I to talk for a bit."
I looked over in surprise at Cece's untouched plate. Worry and concern nagged at me, but I let her go and watched in shock as she poured her meal into the bin. Usually she would at least keep some leftovers…
"Jace," Valentine said once Cece had disappeared up the stairs, "Let's discuss your living arrangements…"
"No!" I barked, anger burning intensely within me.
"You know that I will not tolerate any of your outbursts!" he yelled, his voice beating against my eardrums.
"Well boo-hoo 'cause you're the one who threatened me into being here!" I retorted.
Valentine rose out of his seat and slammed his palms against the glass table. Feeling confident, as I was sitting at the opposite end of the table, I mimicked him. His face red, he bellowed, "Know your place."
"Know yours," I spat, "She's my mother and you don't get to decide whether or not she lives!"
With the intensity of a tiger he stalked around the table to get to me. Something inside of me shrivelled up and cowered in fear, but my demeanour remained strong. I raised my chin in defiance as he gripped my shoulders and yelled, "I won't let a little brat like you talk to me like that!"
"And I won't let a pig like you abuse this family anymore," I smirked, old Jace's memory fuelling me.
His eye twitched, and I knew that something inside of him had snapped. He released my shoulders only to raise his right arm and swing it downwards. The back of his hand cracked against my temple, making everything flash a brilliant white and sent me toppling towards the ground. My vision came back to me just before I hit the ground and I threw my hands out to catch myself. I rolled to the side, cringing at the dining room light that seared against my eyes. My head pounded and my ears rang. Valentine's sharp face was blurry and unfocused as it appeared over me. His form split into two and merged back into one. Still, I could see the anger etched into his brow.
He reached down and fisted his hand in the back of my shirt, using it to hoist me up. He dragged me away from the table and towards the stairs. He pushed me towards them, and I stumbled up the first two steps before falling and smacking my forehead against the edge of one of the wooden steps.
I must have blacked out because we I awoke Valentine was dragging me into my room. I wriggled out of his grip and crawled over to my bed. I hoisted myself up, sending my head spinning painfully. I looked up at Valentine, who was looming in the doorway, his expression masked by the bright light behind him. He stood as a dark and imposing shadow.
"We'll talk about this when you're more level headed," he said, his voice sounding surprisingly calm.
He slammed the door and I listened to his footsteps retreat back downstairs. I rolled onto my back and groaned in pain. My head throbbed dully and black spots flashed over my vision. I touched my forehead where a sharp pain was persisting its urgency. I touched the spot gently and cringed when it sent a stinging sensation through my head. My fingers came away warm and sticky with blood. It must have happened when I hit my head on the stairs.
I tried to sit up, but my head screamed in pain when I moved. I let out another groan of pain and cinched my eyes closed. The door creaked open and I felt a small hand take mine. I risked peeking out of my right eye and saw Cece, wielding what looked like bandages and some kind of antiseptic cream. She started tending to my forehead without a word, and I let her.
"I'm so sorry," she chocked, "I'm sorry you had to come here."
I tried my best for a smile. "Someone needs to protect you and mum."
Cece sniffled, and I realised that she was crying. I lifted my hand to try and move her hair out of her face, but she cringed away. Fear and disgust settled into my stomach when I realised why. "Cece…?" I murmured.
She took a deep breath and turned her face upwards for me to see. Even in the light, a yellowed bruise was visible under her eye and I saw that she had a split in her lip that hadn't healed properly. She hadn't had that kind of scar before I had left…
"How did I not see this before?" I wondered aloud.
"Makeup," she said, "I don't want you to make a big deal about this…"
"How can I not make a big deal? Cece, why didn't you tell me sooner?" I interrupted angrily.
"Shhh," she whispered, pressing her hand to my mouth hurriedly, "He'll hear you."
I leaned back into my pillow in shock. I might have been able to deal with him hurting me, but I couldn't tolerate him abusing Cece like that. I knew I should never have left…
"Don't do anything stupid now," Cece muttered, her voice quiet and shivering, "I don't want you to make things worse."
Hurt panged through me. She didn't trust me to fix things like she used to. She couldn't rely on me anymore. And who could blame her? I left her here. It was my fault that this happened to her. I couldn't do anything about it, either. I would just make things worse for her.
I shouldn't have felt like this, but I didn't know how else to feel. Everything else that had happened in the last few months had broken me, and I didn't have the courage to say what I might have said before we moved. "I…" I mustered up the words, feeling the last of Old Jace shrivel up and die as I forced the syllables through my teeth, "I won't."