PROLOGUE

The male cop looked frustrated at the one way mirror that allowed him to look into the interrogation room. The room where he stood in was dark, where as the other room parallel to this one was brightly lit and held a redheaded teenage girl.

'Why hasn't she talked yet?' he thought to himself. 'She can't stay silent forever.'

He comforted himself with the thought, the sooner he got the hell out of here, the sooner he could crawl back into bed and get some sleep. He then took out his cellphone from his front pocket and started calling his partner.

"Amatis, listen. I need you to do me a favor . . ."

Clary leaned her head heavily on the cold metal table, her dirty hands tucked warmly in her lap. Just waiting, waiting, and waiting for something. The horrifying turn of events of the previous night replayed in her mind like tape, rewinding over and over again.

Cold hands gripped her face harshly and moved it sideways, forcing her to face their mocking laughter.

She shivered in response of the memory, not the freezing temperature of the room.

"You cold? I could tell the guys to turn off the A/C if you like."

The female voice snapped Clary out of her previous thoughts, startling her.

Clary looked up from the table blankly, observing the female cop standing in front of her.

The cop in turn, sat down in front of her and laid out a yellow folder on the table.

"My name is Detective Herondale and my partner and I will be the ones to handle your case. My first question is, do you know why you're here?" Detective Herondale asked, peering curiously at her.

Clary nodded apprehensively, vaguely remembering from all those TV shows she had watched when she was younger that she wasn't supposed to talk without a lawyer present.

"Last night, the police received a disturbance call from one of your neighbors and found you practically beating your father and brother bloody last night. Do you deny any of this?" Detective Herondale questioned her, taking out photographs of her father and brother after the attack.

She shook her head, indicating no. Even as Clary stared at the pictures of her remaining family, she felt that she couldn't regret it. Not one tiny bit. She was glad for the pain she had caused them because, after endless years of them hurting her now it was her turn to inflict the pain.

"Drop the weapon and step away from the men, ma'am!" The male police officer warned her, his gun already cocked and pointing at her.

Clary dropped the baseball bat she was holding, which was now stained with spatters of blood. She then turned around and raised her hands in the air as a sign of surrender.

"You okay?" Clary heard the police officer ask her brother.

"Thank god, you came. My sister- I don't know what's gotten into her. She just started hitting me and my dad." Jonathan said innocently, with just the tiniest bit of smugness to his tone.

She turned with the urge to hit him again but the cop beat her to it.

"Hands against the car!" the officer shouted.

Complying with his request, she walked the short distance into the car and placed her hands on the hood of the car.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford one . . ."

'Oh how the tables have turned,' she thought.

"Look, Clarissa-" the detective said, but was interrupted by Clary.

"Clary," she heard herself correct the female detective.

"Clary, then. I interviewed your neighbors and they seem to think you're a nice girl. Your teachers at school have high opinions of you, as do your peers. Honestly, I don't buy your father's bullshit story about you suddenly going rabid on them. You don't seem the type to just attack someone for no reason, so what happened?" Detective Herondale asked her once again.

The dull gray door that stood as the entrance and exit of the room, suddenly crashed open revealing a high-strung looking woman. She was wearing a black suit complete with a briefcase that set off her colorless pale blond hair that was set in a tight bun and her hard gray eyes.

"Imogen," Detective Herondale said a little breathlessly. "What are you doing here?"

Imogen scowled fiercely at the detective. "What do you think I'm doing here? I'm this poor girl's attorney, Amatis. This is my chance to finally put the bastard behind bars."

Imogen then redirected her attention towards Clary. "Let's get this over with."

48 hours later Dispositional Hearing

"Will the defendant please rise," the judge said.

Clary's nerves jittered as she stood up and fought to restrain herself from chewing her nails.

"How does the defendant plead?"

"Not guilty."

"And, how do we find the defendant?"

"Guilty."

The elderly judge peered at her over his large glasses. "Clarissa Adele Morgenstern, you are therefore sentenced to at least 8 weeks in a juvenile correctional facility, from there on you will be placed in a foster home seeing as your father, Valentine Morgenstern, has withdrawn all custody rights towards you and has placed a restraining order against you that requires you to maintain a distance of 100 yards. We will be meeting again here in 10 weeks to view your progress. Case dismissed."

Clary stared emotionlessly at the giant sign that decorated the side of the giant building.

HILLBROOK JUVENILE DETENTION CENTER

The atmosphere looked peaceful with the bright green grass that decorated the field, and the tall thick brown trees that had softly green colored leaves. But then again, looks where deceiving.

Whether she liked it or not, she had brought this on herself. If she had told them perhaps, she wouldn't be in this situation. But there was always the chance that they wouldn't believe her and take their side and not hers. They would make her out a liar.

Clary sighed and hitched up the strap of her worn-out bag higher up on her shoulder, wincing when the heavy bag touched a healing bruise. Time to get this over with.

Clary walked to the main entrance of the building, dreading the moment when she had to step in. Her increase of dread grew when a creepy looking adult opened the doors from within and greeted her, displaying a smile that made her feel uncomfortable.

"Welcome to Hillbrook."

This was going to be a long eight weeks.

I appreciate everyone reading this right now. And honestly, this like literally came to me like around the middle of the night and I just started writing and planning out ideas nonstop. I apologize if the law process information is incorrect, I literally spent like hours Googling this so yeah. Second of all, cut me some slack during this fic because this is my first time writing something like this, other writings aside. If you actually enjoyed and like this then I would appreciate some reviews and feedback on this if you found it interesting or anything at all because the feedback generally helps me write faster/better. Thanks for reading! :) -IAD