This is my first chapter, so be nice!

Also I know it's quite short but the chapters will get longer as the story progresses!

DISCLAIMER : I DO NOT OWN THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS

Chapter 1: Remember and Forget.

CPoV

Pain. A blood-curdling shriek. A young girl lying in a pool of red. Black eyes looming over her, raising a belt…

I woke with a yelp. My pyjamas were soaked with my sweat and I was shaking. I curled up into a ball with my knees tucked into my chest and my arms were gripped around my frail body, trying to hold myself together.

'It's just a dream, it's just a dream,' I repeated in my head. But I knew better. Not only was it a dream, it was a memory, a memory of my father. Valentine Morgenstern.

The day child services took me away and to my newfound mother was the happiest of my life but I still kept the scars. The alarm clock on the bedside table read 4:30am as my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. Knowing that I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep I trudged over to the bathroom.

I looked into the mirror at my reflection and flinched. My eyes, full of pain and loss, were bloodshot from my tears and there were dark circles bordering my once-emerald-green eyes, showing the world my lack of sleep.

My skin was pale and washed-out with all the pink in my cheeks gone. With dry lips, almost lost of all colour. I breathed out a sigh. My normally blazing red hair was haggard and full of knots. Why has my life come to this?

I heaved a long sigh out once more, twirling around to turn on the shower and I waited until the room was full of steam before stepping in. I massaged my head with conditioner, individually disentangling each knot in my hair, trying to find the "inner peace" which the school counsellor drones on about.

While I was thinking, my mind started to meander to what my silly best friend would be saying to me now. "Keep your head held high, Clary" he would say as he gave me that patronising stare before cracking his trademark Simon smile and telling me a joke like "Or are my feet just that attractive, like the rest of me?" He could always manage to get me to laugh and looking satisfied with himself, once he did.

Despite my bad morning, I grinned to myself. Simon was my best friend and I knew him like the back of my hand. His messy brown hair and his glasses askew on his nose. He anchored me to this world, keeping me happy and sane…and somewhat normal.

He has never left my side, not once, apart from that time when he had to go to Philadelphia for a week. I couldn't cope without him, so I locked myself in my cupboard. Childish, I know, but after he received a distressed call from my mother, he came back and rescued me.

No one else had been let in to see who I really was, aside from Simon and occasionally, my mother.

Once I was dried and dressed I emotionally prepared myself for what was today. Today was the first day of 11th Grade. Something I dreaded, immensely. There was a soft buzzing noise from inside my room, despite it being only 5 o'clock in the morning. I looked down at the message and smiled: I assume ur up?

It was Simon. I quickly replied: yup, ready 4 skool? After confirming my lift to school with him I decided to go downstairs and grab some breakfast. I heard a faint sizzling as I descended the stairs, so I wasn't surprised to see the back of a woman, red hair flowing as she moved across the kitchen, making pancakes while singing to herself.

"Morin' Clary, darling" She said to me, turning around briefly with a smile on her face before she resumed cooking.

"Hi mum" I replied, thanking who ever invented make-up for her not noticing how haggard I looked.

"What's up honey?" she asked as she set the food down in front of me. I couldn't lie to her face when she looked at me like that, so I cast my eyes down from hers, which mirrored mine in colour, and searched my brain for a reasonable excuse.

"Just nervous for school." It was partially true, at least. She eyed me thoughtfully, but just nodded before informing me that I had the house to myself this afternoon. She was going to help Luke in his bookshop. I didn't mind, I was probably going to come back and just was movies with Simon this afternoon anyway.

As I was about to leave to meet Simon when he called me, saying he was out of gas and money and that he was walking to school. He offered to come pick me up and us walk to together, but I declined knowing that was an extra 20 minutes for him to detour to my house, just to pick me up.

With that I left the house and as I waved to my mother a strange sense of determination and fearlessness washed over me. I then did something I had never done before, I took off my jacket leaving my shoulders and arms bare. Now everyone would be able to see my scars, scars that only Simon, my mum and the man who inflicted them had ever seen before.