The forgotten Morgenstern (Mortal Instruments Fanfiction)

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A/N: Hi guys!

I decided to write a mortal instruments fanfic! These books are absoloutely amazing<3 And I hope the movies do them justice.(:

No hate guys, and this chapter should be sorta long and I hope the others are long as well(: xxx

Vote, comment and fan!

Thank youu

     ~YouMakeMeSmileXOXO

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“Bye guys!” I yelled to some guys that had offered to take me home from the club I was at. They grinned and gave me the call me sign, so I blew them a kiss and walked to my door.

“Crap.” I muttered to myself as I couldn’t the stupid key in the lock. Shouldn’t have drank so much.

I pounded on the door “MUM, DAD! I NEED YOU T-“

The door swung open and my mum stood there in her dressing gown glaring at me.

“Will you be quiet? Violet is sleeping.” She hissed, pulling me inside. “You smell disgusting.” She stated once I was inside and the door was closed.

“Good for me.” I replied and followed her into the kitchen where she was going on about how it’s far too late and that I’m the most immature teen ever, blah, blah, blah.

“Sit down.” She said, pointing to one of the seats at the kitchen counter.

I sat down and she looked at me sadly.

“Why do you do these things?” She asked, but I think it was more to herself then to me.

I shrugged anyway and she groaned “I am serious Emily! You could’ve made something of yourself. You’re smart and beautiful, so why are you screwing your life up?!” She yell-whispered, trying to not wake up my little sister.

I laughed “I am not screwing up my life. I am having fun, and if that means drinking and fuc-“

“Get out.” She said, cutting me off.

I looked at in shock. Surely I heard her wrong “What?”

“Get out.” She repeated.

Guess I hadn’t.

“But, mum-“

She cut me off again “Screw your life up, I don’t care anymore, but I will not have you messing with Violets life.”

I got off the seat and glared at her “Where am I supposed to go?!” I asked her.

She sighed and wrote something on a piece of paper “Go here.” She said and handed me the paper with an address scrawled on it. “He should be able to explain better than I can.”

“Explain what?” She ignored me, muttering about how she wasn’t expecting it so soon. “Mum?” Once again she ignored me, so I stormed up to my room and started shoving things into my duffel bag with tears in my eyes.

Clothes.

Phone.

Phone Charger.

Toiletries.

iPod and charger.

Shoes.

I looked around the room, what else do I need? My eyes fell on a picture across the room. It was taken last year when we had gone to Fiji for a month. It was the last time I remembered not fighting with my parents.

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