Chapter 1 – damn me to hell, or sentence me to darkness

edited:

Wayland High School, the school for the wealthy, sophisticated, and privileged. Clary glanced at the letter of acceptance from the school and squirmed her eyes in annoyance.

"What is it, Clary dear? Why do you look so upset?" Jocelyn, her mother, glanced at her daughter worriedly from the kitchen.

Clary held up the letter of acceptance and frowned. "I don't want to go."

"Why? Wayland is the most prestigious school in town. As you know, our economic situation is not exactly well-off… attending Wayland can greatly polish your portfolio for university admissions."

"Mum! That school is full of airheads! I don't want to attend that stupid school full of morons and jerks!" Clary snapped venomously, throwing her letter of acceptance onto the floor and stormed into her room.

Jocelyn sighed. At times like this, she could never understand her teenage daughter. As a single mother, she spent at least twelve hours per day juggling between different jobs to provide for Clary. Clary meant the world to her, and she only wanted the best for her. But increasingly, her busy work schedules had led to distancing between the mother-daughter pair, and she found that… perhaps she was not a good mother like she thought she was.

In the tiny one bedroom next to the kitchen, Clary stared up blankly at the ceiling, her inner demons fighting a tough battle with herself. After an internal struggle, her inner demons emerged with victory when her hands uncontrollably subconsciously reached for the penknife in her dresser out of instinct…

Ω

She laid all night awake just staring the blank ceiling. She watched as the sun rises where birds began chirping. What annoying sounds, Clary thought, they sounded so genuinely happy; and there is no happiness in the world. She watched as the first day of school rolled in, inevitably, as dawn approaches. Clary eyed the date on her calendar with disdain. Even after years of being bullied in schools, she simply wasn't ready for a fresh start, especially in a school for the rich. Her tattered second hand clothes were major hints to her lowly social status, and undoubtedly the bullying will get worse.

She's only human after all, and there is only so much she can take.

With distaste, she grabbed her penknife and swiftly gashed a horizontal line on her arm. Her eyes flashed with hopeless glistening tears as she stared at the crimson blood smoothly gushing out from her wound. Pain? Clary could no longer feel any pain. Gone were the days when the fiery haired girl's emerald green eyes twinkled merrily with joy and happiness, now, in this cruel society, her eyes looked soulless, dull and lifeless. She headed towards the tiny bathroom in her miniscule one-bedroom apartment and washed her wound carefully to prevent infection. Even if she was to die, she was not stupid enough to die by a mere infection. Clary knew better than that. But then again, even if she died, no one will mourn over her, no one will even care. Not even her mother who only knows how to work and bring men back in the middle of the night for some quick cash.

She smiled humorlessly and a ghostly smile reflected back at her from the mirror.

Dreadfully, she brushed her teeth and took a quick shower before changing into a pair of old jeans from the Salvation Army - she don't even had any idea if this is third hand, or fourth hand-, and a thinned old grey pullover that used to be her older brother's favourite before he died to cover the cutting scars on her arm. Hopefully she looked decent enough not to be picked on. Ha, nice try, Fray. Only in your dreams, she snorted, as she left her house.

Clary could have taken the subway, or her school bus, but she hated social interaction with people. Not only do everyone judge her, random strangers like to pick on her as well. It almost seemed like she was bornt to be picked on. And maybe that's your life, Clary thought bitterly. Cycling was the much better alternative for her. Besides, Wayland High School was only a good 2 miles away and as long as she woke up early enough, she could reach school on time when it was too crowded for people to notice her. Since kindergarten, Clary had learnt that invisibility is the best way to blend in. If you pretend to be invisible, no one will laugh at you. She cycled along, and allowed her humorless laughter to ring through the air on several levels. One of the things she loved most in fall was the cold autumn wind sweeping against her tiny frame. Like many other things in life, this is also a true reflection of society – the cold, merciless and devious schemes to get through her. The cold wind in September proves just that.

Upon her arrival, Clary quietly parked the bike and travelled through the crowds of students, careful not to draw any attention to herself. Expected views of rich bitches carrying their Whatever Miu designer totes and Whatever Panda (or was it Pranda?) slutty outfits flooded the hallway with arrogant, snarky male heirs making out with their hot, brainless and equally rich girlfriends. Clary rolled her eyes mentally and made it to the high school's reception office.

"Hello, how can I help you?" The receptionist at the counter seemed friendly enough. Maybe she can be Clary's first friend. Ha.

"My name is Clary Fray, and today is my first day of school here."

"Oh hi Clary! I read about you all over the news! You must be the one who saved Young Mr Wayland from suicide! What a brave girl!" The receptionist gushed over Clary in excitement.

Clary forced a tiny acknowledging smile. She hated all this attention. Saving this freaking useless asshole, and now she's being dragged into this turmoil. "You speak highly of me, Madam. Mr. Wayland was simply drunk and dancing on my rooftop. And I couldn't let him step all over the clothes I just washed, could I?" Clary's voice rose to a falsetto in a sickening sweet voice, as she rolled her eyes in the back of her head. Truth was, this Wayland dude was high on drugs and alcohol and ended up on her rooftop for some strange reason. He made a huge wreck and knocked down piles of clothes that Clary had been washing, so she had threw a washing board at him. She supposed it conveniently saved him from falling off the ledge of the rooftop, but whatever, that wasn't exactly her main concern. But this had ended up with Michael Wayland, father of supposed-clothes-stepping-douchebag, also the chairman of Wayland Enterprises, to extend an invitation to her to attend the "best" school in town as a form of gratitude.

Had her mother not begged her and brought up her dead brother Jonathan, Clary reckoned she would still be a normal but bullied girl in her old school now, which was definitely better than in a state of panic to watch out for potential bullies in a school of filthy richness. At least in her old school she had memorised all the bullying tricks by her bullies already.

"Oh dear Clary, how humble you are!" The receptionist squeaked in a really not annoying voice, drawing Clary back into reality. She looked around to check if the coast is clear, and dropped her voice to a dead whisper, "But everyone around knows that Jace Wayland is a nutcase." At her words, Clary couldn't help by giving a tiny smile. Yay for people having similar opinions as her.

"Well, so Clarissa Fray, I'm so pleased you're in our school! Now sign these papers and get your schedule. Your first lesson will be Literature with Mr. Graymark. Here is late pass seeing that you won't be able to make it on time." The receptionist chirped on happily.

Clary nodded slightly and settled her administrative matters before moving for her lesson. She knocked the door and went in tentatively, her heart nervously doing gymnastics. She was greeted by faces of sluts with powdered makeup and guys with hair… who even intentionally messes up their hair?! Like, okay, can.

"Now, are you the new student?" The teacher, who she presumed to be Mr Greymark smiled warmly. Clary nodded and did a self-introduction. "Hi I'm Clary Fray." She said simply.

Almost immediately, the class snickered at her poor self-introduction and murmurs were heard all around the class. Clary tried not to feel self-conscious as her new schoolmates began pointing at her outfit and mocked outright at her. She clenched a deep breath and focused on the swirling of the overhead fan. One rotation… two rotations… But things will get worse because these kids are much richer and cockier than those in your old school, a dark sad voice said in the back of her head.

"Quiet class," Mr. Graymark called for the class's attention in annoyance. "Well, Clary, we all heard about your bravery!" He beamed, "Now you may take a seat beside Mr. Wayland. I assume you know who he is, seeing how you saved his life." Mr. Graymark winked knowingly and Clary resisted the temptation to strangle him while the class made ahhhhhs and ooooohs sounds suggestively.

And so she moved to the back of the class and sat down beside "Mr. Wayland", the self-absorbed blondie with golden eyes who was checking himself out in a handheld mirror, Clary tried to be nice for once and smiled forcefully, "Hi nice to meet you." Maybe things will get better in this school, after she saved his life didn't she? Maybe he will be nice to her and they can be friends.

"Mr Wayland" threw his mirror onto his desk and smirked at Clary. "And nice to meet you, Clarissa." He purred seductively and her heart skipped a beat momentarily, completely absorbed into the depth of his golden luminous eyes. "I'm Jace Wayland," Jace leaned in…. and she felt a sting on her cheek and blood at the corner of her mouth. That douchebag had slapped her, what the shit?! She furrowed her brows in anger and opened her mouth to snap just when he spoke again.

"Don't growl, you dog. Here's my payback for throwing that thing at me that day... Part one out of infinity." He smiled menacingly.

hope you guys enjoyed the edited version of chapter one! reviews are appreciated thanks :)