It's Not A Utopia (An OC Shadowhunter Fanfiction)

Chapter One

Grace

My life is a living Hell.

Crap, I probably just scared you off. Please don't put this away. I worked too hard to get this to you. I could be killed in hundreds of horrible ways any moment now. I want someone to know my story.

Okay, I guess if you're going to sit here and read or listen to my life story, I should probably introduce myself. My name's Grace Carstairs. If I tried to explain everything about me right now, that itself would take a whole book. You'll probably understand myself when this is over. 

I hope.

Maybe you won't; I don't know how smart the people in the past were. Smarter than people nowadays I hope.

Anyways... 

Ugh, how can I begin telling this? I guess we should start from where I enter the picture. 

My father was a young man when he met my mom. It was kinda funny how they met- demon hunting. But, what better way is there for shadowhunters to meet? At least, at the time, my dad thought my mom was a shadowhunter. Crap, I'm getting ahead of myself again.

Okay, rewind. My father is Charles Carstairs. He was just an average shadowhunter with nothing special about him. My mother didn't think so. 

Dammit! I keep getting ahead of myself. This is a lot harder than I thought it would be. 

My father got an assignment to go demon hunting- nothing unusual. One day, my dad went out hunting with his best friend, John ; they were already older than eighteen when they met, so, though they act just like parabatai, they aren't. The damn Clave wouldn't let them. 

So, during the fight, this shadowhunter started fighting with my dad and John. John thought nothing of it. The shadowhunter was just a shadowhunter, she wasn't anything special in his opinion. I assume she thought the same of John. My dad, however, thought my mother was the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. 

After the fight, my dad and mother got to know each other. As he tells me this story- repeatedly- he always tells me that the first thing he said to my mother was "Where the hell did you come from?!" He'd always laugh at that- when I was younger. Now, it just pains him too much to even say anything about her. His broken heart healed backwards, I guess. Or maybe he was just in disbelief when I was younger. Maybe he just couldn't comprehend that she left him.

So, as I've already spoiled, my mother left my dad. I was just a baby. My dad said I was only a month old, and she left, just like that. No goodbye, nothing. Dad probably wouldn't be as worried that she left if the world wasn't Hell. But in Hell, there always seems to be a Saving Grace. That was me. Apparently, my mother chose my name. Ironic that she left the Saving Grace in Hell. She probably had her reasons, or, at least, that's what I've been telling myself the last sixteen years. I don't think I'd be able to cope if I didn't believe something.

But something can't get me out of this hellhole. Something didn't make my life normal. 

Dammit, I'm probably scaring the crap out of you again.

Okay, back to my parents. When I was born, everyone told my dad I looked just like him. He'd laugh and reply: "You really think my little Grace is that ugly?!" 

It's the truth though, not me being ugly, but me looking like my dad. I'm on the taller side, like him. I'm super skinny, like him. I have the same head of unruly black-brown hair. I have his nose. I have the same regal cheek bones. I have the same line of freckles across my nose. My eyes are even the same shape. The only real difference between us is that he has emerald-green eyes. My eyes aren't. They're the only thing I got from my mother. They're the only evidence that I even had a damn mother. And, to be frank, I wish I had my father's eyes. If I had my father's eyes, his eyes wouldn't fill with tears every time he looked at me. He wouldn't have to put up a facade every time someone who knew my mother mentioned that I had her eyes.