Chapter 3: Don't Worry I'm Fine

Its like forgetting, the words to your favourite song,

You can't believe it,

You were always singing along.

It was so easy, and the words so sweet,

You can't remember, you try to feel the beat.

Present Day, 1 month after:

It was her, but it wasn't. She looked the same, as if nothing had happened. But it had. She was a different person then she was a month ago. Yet she still looked the same. Or did she? Tentatively she reached out and pressed the tip of her finger against the cool glass of the mirror. She reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, the girl opposite her copying her movements exactly. She traced the dark circles under her eyes, little purple half moons, that betrayed her. Telling everyone that she wasn't fine, that she wasn't ok that something was wrong. They may not know what it was, may not know what it was that was bothering her, but if they looked close enough. Saw those telltale little signs, they would know that everything was not okay. That everything was so terribly, terribly wrong. They told of sleepless nights and horrible nightmares filled with visions of dark haired men and slimy tongues and breaking. Her mother never heard her, she made sure of that. Muffling her screams and sobs into her pillow, until she was sure she had herself under control, had her fear and her pain locked behind a metal door, bolted shut.

"Clary! Hurry up, or you'll be late!"

Hurriedly Clary looked away from her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and grabbed her concealer. She roughly dabbed it under her eyes, effectively covering up the circles. She applied some mascara and began yanking a brush through her unruly red curls. Why she couldn't have been born with straight brown hair, she would never know. She swiftly put her hair up in a messy bun atop her head, before heading into the living room and grabbing her messenger bag.

"Bye Mom!" She as she pulled on her converse and headed toward the door,

"Bye Clary, have fun and tell Simon and Isabelle I said hi!" Her mother, Jocelyn, yelled back from where she stood in the living room, covered in paint with a canvas before her and a brush in her hand. Her mother's back was to her, her attention once again drawn back toward whatever project she happened to be working on.

Clary closed the old apartment door behind her, before leaning against the wall. She let out a shaky breath, her small arms hugging her chest. She hated lying to her mother but that seemed to be the only thing she was doing lately. Really it wasn't new, she had been lying to her mother for just under a year, since that day. That painful, horrible day. Little things, stuff like she was over him, and she wasn't taking it to hard, and that she didn't feel like he had cut her heart out of her chest, stomped on it and then thrown it into a volcano. Clary stopped herself before she delved to far into those memories, for it would only break open the old wound. The wound that even now, hadn't really finished healing. She wouldn't go there, she wouldn't relive that again. Not again. She had enough to deal with already.

Clary pulled herself off of the wall, feeling a heavy weight sitting upon her skinny shoulders, before she walked down the hallway and 5 minutes later, exited the apartment building.

The street was noisy and busy, as it always was. For New York was constantly alive, full of people pushing and shoving to get to their destination. No one even glanced at the young girl walking close to the road, her fiery hair trailing behind her in the breeze, but if they had noticed her, if any of them had dared to look closer, they would have seen the small way she seemed to fold in upon herself. Hiding. Her small arms wrapped around her chest. They would have noticed the way her eyes danced fearfully around her, like the eyes of a skittish horse, haunted. She looked as if she expected someone to attack her at any moment. Little did they know that somebody already had.

Clary weaved between the rushing crowd, walking just a little slower than a jog. She had told her mother that she was going to get a coffee with Simon and Izzy, but she hadn't spoken to them since the beginning of summer. And now after what had happened, she just didn't know how. What if they were able to see it? What if they could read her face like a book with all of her secrets just open in front of them. She couldn't face them. Not yet. She was trash, filthy used trash and her friends would see that. They would know just what a disgusting little slut she was. They would say that she wanted it. That she begged for it. They would cast her out. The pain of losing her two best friends in the world would kill her. No she couldn't see them yet. Not until she had everything under control, not until she could hide the truth. Bury it so far down that it would be like it had never happened at all.

With that thought Clary reached her destination. This is where she would start. This is where she would pick up the shovel and make the hole, the hole that would contain her deepest secret ever.

Clary walked up the steps of the big house, until she was standing right in front of the door. It was a huge townhouse that looked like the home of one of those perfect model families you see in one of those ads on TV. "Okay Clary, she thought, you can do this. Easy. No big deal. Just press the doorbell. Hey maybe he's not even home! Then you can just leave and go along with your day. Oh come on, come on, come on!" And with that Clary pushed the doorbell.

She heard loud thumps from inside, as if someone was walking down the stairs. No, more like falling down the stairs. And then a hurried yell of, "I'll get it!" Clary wiped the sweaty palms of her hands against her jeans, prayed to God her face wasn't flushed and beat red from the July heat, and then the door opened.

"Clary!" He said in shock his usually smooth voice catching in the middle.

"Jace."

So here it is my lovelies! An all newwww chapter! Hope you enjoy! Please review! They are lovelier than a box of chocolates on Valentines Dayyyy!

-readlivlaflove 3

Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the TMI, I own nothing, though I soooo wish I did!

The song at the top is Eet by Regina Spektor, and it's amazing!