HEY-LO.
I feel so happy, but I feel so sad that I lost my chance to talk to him AGAIN. I am honestly so stupid when it comes to cute guys...like this. Also...Susan, dear, if you're reading this, then yes, I did lose my chance for the MILLIONTH freaking time, and yes, I feel like a total freaking idiot for it.
Help me, Jebus! (I say that a lot, even though I'm supposed to be Hindu. Well, fuck the world, because agnostic theism is the bomb!)
So, um, like, that guy I've wanted to talk to ever since he was in front of me in the line to get schedules, I've, like, heard that he's really shy. (Bring it on!)
Now, a lot of you hate Jace. I can understand. I hate him, too. He should have been gentler on Clary. (And by ON Clary, I mean ON CLARY.) It will get better, though. Very soon, but not very soon.
ASDFGHJKL.
I found The Iron Trial at the library and checked it out!
To Riley207: Haha, I want to castrate that sonofabitch, too.
To SelfDestructIn54321: Of course I like cheese! It's so much fun to eat! And yes, my name really is Aishwarya. Thank you for telling me it sounds cool.
To lauren . vaughan : Thanks for following this story up until now. I hope you don't abandon me. XD
Here's your chapter.
I hear a faint ticking sound coming from somewhere far away, and I can just barely catch it.
Every part of me below the waist hurts. It's not just sore, I can tell there are bruises on my legs. When I move even a little bit, it feels like someone is ripping me from the inside out.
That's what wakes me up.
I'm still wearing the clothes I had on last night. The pillow under my head is damp with tears. I feel stolen.
And that was exactly what happened last night, wasn't it?
Where is that fucker right now? I hope he doesn't come back. If he does, I'll whack him over the head with one of my books. I'll do it until he's bleeding and begging me to stop.
Just like I did.
The ticking sound comes from the wall clock, and it's seems slow. Slower than usual. Maybe that's what happens when you come here. Time gets slower, and it feels like a million lifetimes before you die.
I sit up with a wince. I wish I had pain meds. Just as I'm about to get off the bed, the door that leads into the other bedroom opens with a creak. A girl with long, black hair is standing in the doorway. She's the girl I saw last night before I blacked out. Her eyes are a dark shade of brown, her pale skin suiting them perfectly. She reminds me of a Barbie doll, just a bit Goth.
"Hi," She says. "How are you feeling?" The look on her face expresses genuine concern.
I shift and ruffle my hair. "I'm...okay." My voice sounds surprisingly raspy.
"I'm sorry, but they don't have painkillers here." Painkillers are only read about in books these days.
"Yeah, I know." I answer briefly. My vision clouds with tears. "It hurt so much." My voice wavers.
Just as the girl comes closer to hug me, I burst into tears. I expect huge, agonizing sobs to come, but only silent tears run down my face. I squeeze my lips together to try and stop myself. It doesn't work at all.
"Come on," She whispers, rubbing my back. "It happened to me, too. It happens to everyone here."
"I, I never wanted to come here," I cry. "He just, he just raped me, and, and after only a few hours after I'd arrived!"
The girl opens her mouth slowly. "Well, I fought when the guy assigned to me did it. I even threw a lamp at him, but when I started to cry, he told me to calm down and went as gentle as possible. I'm pregnant now." She says sadly, pointing to her stomach. She isn't showing yet.
"You'll get pregnant, too. Just wait a month, and then you won't even have to deal with Jace anymore. You can just tell him to leave you alone."
Knowing that I'll have a baby inside me soon makes the tears streaming down my face come faster. "I hate him. He wasn't even nice about it. He just shoved so, so hard, and he wouldn't stop kissing my neck and, and touching me. It was disgusting; I was even about to throw up, but I figured that would make him angrier, so I held it back."
Just then, the door, having been idle for so long, swings open so fast that I can't see it move. Jace is outside, with a plate covered in foil in his hands. It is steaming, and I wonder how his hands aren't burning.
Unlike last time, Jace comes in without asking, and slams the door shut.
"Why is she crying?" He snaps at the girl. I take it as an insult to me and cringe away, suddenly afraid again.
"Because you raped her and weren't even nice about it, you son of a bitch!"
"And also," He glares at her, "What the hell are you doing in here, Isabelle?" So her name is Isabelle. How does he know her name? Is he assigned to her, too?
"There's a door that connects the fucking rooms, and you were the one who told me to fucking calm her down yesterday, so don't give me that shit!" She yells.
Jace huffs like a little girl, and swiftly points at the door. "Get out."
Isabelle gives him a smug smile. "Well, if you say so. Is there a chauffeur waiting to take me to the airport?" She asks.
"I meant get back to your own fucking room, dumbass!" Jace replies, aggravated.
Isabelle sticks her tongue out at him like a child, and gives me an apologetic grimace, stomping back to her own door. I try to catch her eye and tell her through looks, "Don't leave me with him."
"I'm telling Simon that you called me a dumbass." She mutters before making a dramatic exit.
I look down, too scared to make eye contact with Jace because I don't want to see his reaction.
"Wipe your eyes, Clary," He orders.
I feebly do as he says, but there are still tears coming.
"Clary, do I need to come over there?" Jace asks.
My chin trembles. "No, just, just don't." I wipe my eyes and will myself to stop crying. I still haven't looked Jace in the eye.
"Could you please look at me when I'm talking to you?" He questions. Somehow, he's silently made his way across the room with the plate, and I can smell the food. I also see his feet about a yard away from me. He's wearing black leather shoes that must be expensive.
I slowly pull my head up until my eyes are level with Jace's. His eyes are burning, a tawny, gold mixture speckled with dark copper flecks.
He gives me a slight smile. "Thank you." He catches me looking at the plate of food. "Oh, right. I came to give you this." He holds out the plate to me, and I take it reluctantly. Jace sits down on the bed a few inches away from me. I scoot away from him uncomfortably.
I start carefully unwrapping the silver, glinting foil from the plate. Laid out for me neatly is an all white omelet with gooey, melted cheese inside. Under the plate, there's a fork and a knife precariously stuck there with tape. I rip them off and begin eating the omelet in small bites.
The taste of the omelet reminds me of the ones Mom makes every Sunday morning. I wonder if they got her recipe and used it to make this. I involuntarily let out a soft moan, and Jace chuckles lightly.
I only realize that I've finished eating when Jace's hand touches my shoulder. I shrink away from it, and he sighs.
"Stop it, Clary," He tells me quietly.
"Stop what?" I ask.
"Don't move away from me when I sit next to you, or cringe when I'm simply trying to get your attention by shaking you. I'm not letting you spend the rest of your life afraid of what I'll do to you."
Before I can do anything, I burst into tears. Why, of all people, is he the one saying this to me? I have every right to be afraid of him. Every single goddamn right.
Jace tightens his jaw, and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Stop crying. Now. I'm making an attempt to be nice here, Clarissa."
"Well, you weren't exactly befriending me by throwing me onto the bed and fucking me like I'm some whore, were you? Because even if you'd been gentle, raping me a few moments after we met was not a way to kick it off." I retort through my tears.
Jace explodes in my face. (AN: Haha, that rhymes.) "Why can't you understand? It's my job! I was born here, and even though most of the kids that are born here get shipped to adoptive families, I wasn't! I've spent nineteen years of my life knowing that my mother was in this very building, reproducing with some creep not even worth enough to be called my father!" He shouts.
I stand, abandoning the plate. "Well, maybe that's what your future children will be saying when they're stuck here raping some poor girl! Maybe you'll even get to meet them every day, while I'll have to live the next five or more decades in this hellhole of a room! I'll always be the one who has to look around at this room and be reminded of home every single second! I'll always be government property, and so will you, from the looks of it, but here's the thing you'll get to interact with actual people who you can befriend and hang out with at the mall or some shit. I'm not even twenty yet! My life changed with a single phone call! I had a school, friends, family, but now I don't. I never will. Never..." My anger melts as I drop painfully to my knees and curl up against the bedpost, sobbing into my hands.
When I look up at Jace to tell him to get out, he's staring at me thoughtfully, sitting against the wall with a position mirroring mine. My mouth isn't opening. I just calmly look at him for the duration of the next hour or so.
His eyes don't leave mine, not even when blaring music goes off in my neighbor's room. They bore into me, demanding to know my deepest secrets. Truth is, I don't have any.
"You do know that you physically hurt me, right?"
His eyes widen a notch further than they already are. He seems shocked. "I did?" He genuinely asks me.
"Of course you did. Did you not see me cry?" I harshly hiss.
Jace is taken aback. "I thought that it was just for the sake of it." He raises his eyebrows, and drops them into place once again. It looks oddly interesting.
"You're so stupid. Why would I be crying just for the sake of it? Was there anyone else that was naked on top of me? I was begging you to stop without words, because I'd realized that words don't have effect on you."
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry." He apologizes.
I laugh without a trace of humor in my voice. He's...saying sorry. "That won't work." I giggle. It comes out excessively high, unlike myself. "It just won't ever work, because you've already gone too far!" My laughing grows until I'm practically roaring with it, but it isn't until Jace stands up and whispers soothing words into my ear that I find that I'm actually roaring with loud sobs. Wow...I've cried so much these last few days. When will I ever stop?
"Hey. Hey," Jace smooth's a hand over my hair gently. "Shh. Come here." He pulls me up and walks me to my bathroom. I shake my head and pull away from him because I think he's taking me there to rape me again.
"No, I don't want to go there." I push at his chest. he doesn't budge. Instead, he holds my chin up and strokes my cheek.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He whispers. "It's okay."
I blink back more tears. "No, it isn't okay. I-I miss my m-mom and everything's so depressing b-because my room at home is exactly like t-this." I've started to hiccup furiously. Jace leaves my side and rustles around in my closet. He finally emerges with a clear crystal glass. I have no idea where it came from because my family doesn't own those kinds of glasses. In less than ten seconds, Jace has brought me water filled to the brim in the glass.
I think that they put the glasses there so I could have water anytime. But what about food? Is it always going to be like this, him bringing me meals at a certain time? Because I think I'll starve doing that every day.
I chug the water down and wipe my mouth. The hiccupping has stopped, but there is still a big fat lump in my throat. I swallow, thinking stupidly that if I do that, it will go away. Nope. It's still daring me to cry again. But I won't. I've showed off how weak I am already. I won't let Jace manipulate me, not ever.
"I think we're done here." I mumble, just barely audible.
"What?"
"I mean, I want you to leave. Just go, Jace. I don't need you to stay here a single minute more." I shake my head sadly.
For a second, I see - is that guilt? Flash in Jace's eyes. "Fine." He says, emotionless. "I'll be back to give you some lunch." He shuffles out slowly and closes the door. I hear the click of the lock seconds later.
When I walk to Isabelle's room, I find that the door is locked from the other side. I precariously knock and wait for a response.
The door swings open and Isabelle smiles at me. Unable to help it, I crack a slight smile because Isabelle's smile is so bright and I don't want myself to look so...cried out.
"Hi," She says. "Did Jace leave?"
I nod. "Yeah, he did. At least I got food."
"Jace is rude. Snarky. Arrogant. Cocky. All the synonyms in the dictionary. Anyways, want to come into my room?"
Laughing, I enter her room as she prods the back of my neck gently. "You don't even know my name."
"You're Clary. Clary Fray. And you're my mother's friend's daughter." She states informatively, her eyes wide and childish-seeming.
I stare at her, dumbfounded. "How, whose daughter are you?" I choke out. Could this be the Isabelle my mother was telling me about?
"I'm Maryse Lightwood's daughter, Isabelle. Your mom's name is Jocelyn Fray. I know. I've met her once. I was little, though. Almost five. I think you were there, too."
A memory flashes from the backs of my eyelids. Me meeting a dark-haired woman with a forever lost expression on her face. Her daughter was so bubbly and full of energy, though. It was a direct contrast. That time, I was only four. Fourteen years have passed, and now here we are standing in front of each other.
It may seem strange, even to her, but I slowly hug Isabelle. "God, Izzy, it's been years." I whisper. Isabelle is holding onto me as tightly as I am holding onto her.
"I always asked Mom if I could meet you again, but she said I couldn't because we both had school."
A dry laugh somehow manages to squeeze its way out of my vocal cords. "Now we don't."
Isabelle laughs, too, but just as mine did a few minutes ago with Jace, her laughing turns into soft sobs that remind me of a helpless kitten stuck in a box.
"I don't want to have this baby," She says quietly. How has she managed to stop crying already?! "I never did."
"I cried so hard when the pregnancy test came out positive," She continues. "I wouldn't talk to Simon for three whole days. Then he finally let me call home. That was last month. Mom didn't understand that the phone call was just that once. She told me that she would call on that number, but she never did. I guess the phone lines are blocked."
"What does Simon look like, anyways?" I ask, and just then, the door bursts open. I nearly scream, and my heart beats at ten times faster the pace than it usually does.
"Sorry, I'm late, Iz," A boy says. He has light brown hair and goofy glasses hanging loose on his face. He doesn't seem as bad as Jace does. "Oh! Who's this?"
Isabelle is about to open her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it. "I'm Clarissa Fray. Call me Clary."
The boy's expression eases into a relaxed smile. "I'm Simon Lewis, key master."
I giggle. "Dungeons and Dragons?" I ask him teasingly.
"Yep."
Simon hands Isabelle a plate identical to mine, except under the foil, there is tons of food, much more than what I got. I have to talk to Jace about food the next time I see him. But I don't want to see him again, that's just the big problem. Maybe I could hide in Isabelle's bathroom forever. That seems like a good idea.
"Hey, who's assigned to you?" Simon asks curiously. "If you're in the other room, then that means that...Jace?!" He yells incredulously.
"Yep."
Simon shakes his head disapprovingly, as if he knows how much of a jackass Jace is, and then flops onto Isabelle's bed. Isabelle is nibbling on the edge of a slice of toast, lost in thought, and she sees me staring at her. Her eyebrows raise and she breaks off a portion of toast and gestures for me to take it.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Simon interrupts. "Isabelle, you need to eat that."
Isabelle glares at him. "I am going to get fat eating all of this crap and not burning the calories instantly. Let her have it. I'm sure Jace very generously brought her an omelet. Motherfucker needs to read health books."
Simon sighs in defeat and slumps back down. "Fine, but not every day."
His previous words make me confused. "Hey, what were you saying about the other room and Jace?"
"Um, I was talking about how before you got here, which was like, a few days ago, Jace slept in there because it was his week."
"Week?" I press on.
Simon pushes his glasses up his slim nose with his equally-slim fingers. "One week I sleep in here with Isabelle. I mean literal sleep, curled up on the bed. The other week Jace sleeps here, usually alone, but you're here now. So this week is my week. Next week it's Jace's turn."
My stomach drops. "I can just kick him out, right? Or make him sleep on the floor?" I rapidly throw questions at Simon.
Isabelle interferes. "It's required to sleep with him every night of the week. You have to, how can I say this in non-sexual words? Cuddle, yeah, that's the word I'm looking for. Cuddle. They say that it boosts happiness, although all it's done for me is multiple fights with Simon over falling asleep on his arm and making it numb."
Just when I thought it couldn't go down farther, my stomach drops lower. Jesus. I'm supposed to cuddle with the dude that raped me? Fucking cuddle? This is a torture chamber with a soft bed and all the facilities in the world. "But, but I don't want to."
Simon snorts. "You don't get a choice. Otherwise, we have the right to tie you to the bed. That rarely happens, though." He tells me reassuringly.
I gulp. This is slowly twisting into a messed-up Fifty Shades of Grey dream...er, reality.
Now, I'm even less pleased about Jace coming into my room. Oh, Mom, when the hell are you getting me out of here?
How is it? Did you like it? Too angsty? Sweet?
Longest chapter EVERRR.
The idiotic Jace displayed in this chapter made me facepalm like, infinite times. Oh, well. More Clace next chapter.
I got so many reviews! (gives virtual hug to everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed) 45 reviews for three chapters comes to an average of 15 reviews per chapter. I love you so much, readers.
Thank you, thank you, thank you to okayitswayland for betaing this for me. You're a wonderful writer and editor.
Review or some shit, guys?