Fear

These Harsh Realities

Chapter 23- These Harsh Realities.

Clary POV

Jace picks up the pencil and places it in my right hand. I twist my paper to the left slightly and close my eyes, the pencil hovering millimetres away from the page.

Light, I think to myself, light, light, light. I keep repeating the word, the simple sound growing louder and louder, echoing in my vacant mind. But my mind stays blank; no rune in my grasp.

"Keep going, Clary," I hear Jace whisper to me tenderly, but the sound seems muffled; as if he were talking to me from a different world.

When I am about to decide to give up, a maze of lines twirl across the back of my closed eyelids and immediately, my hand is in motion. Without opening my eyes, I slide my pencil across the page in different patterns. After a few flicks of my wrist, I open my eyes to see a perfect replica of the rune that waltzed around in my head.

I twist my head to the right slightly to see Jace's reaction. His perfectly chiselled face is completely blank; I can't tell whether he is pleased or whether he is just thinking. Jace gently brushes his hand across his defined jawbone in small motions. Thinking, he slowly lowers himself so that we are both sharing the small chair. All that separates our skin is a thin layer of leather from Jace's jacket; a thin layer that I wish wasn't there.

I feel my heart thump ferociously in my chest and my head whirls like a spinning top, dancing and twirling in maddening circles. His perfect, peach, pulchritudinous lips slide into a smirk when he notices me studying his gorgeous golden stature. His glowing bright smile radiates warmth.

"Will you please put a damn shirt on?" I jump up off the chair flustered and smile nervously.

"Why? Am I too distracting for you?" He laughs, picking a t-shirt from one of the drawers and tugging it over his luscious locks.

"Oh shut up!" I say, a sneaky smirk sliding onto my face. "We need to check if the rune works." I glance around the room wondering where to draw the rune. Jace had told me that you usually draw runes somewhere on your skin, but a tingling sensation spread up my arm, like fire racking down a track of shimmering black oil, calling me to do something else.

A tsunami of serenity washes over me as I fall into a hypnotic trance; focusing on a spot on the opposite bland walls that were an awkward amalgamation of two different colours that were better off lone rangers. I hold out a pale hand towards Jace as a pathetic whisper escapes my parted lips: "Steele."

Still fixating on the wall, I feel the ice cold metal of the Steele slide into my hand and my grip on it tightens like a vice. As I approach the calamitous clash of colours I raise the Steele and an elegant flow of black swirls appears on the wall.

Steady flickers of light suddenly cast an ominous stretch of shadows along the walls before a blinding yellow beam of light flashes repeatedly, like a lighthouse. Blinking, I raise a pale hand to shelter my eyes from the incredibly intense light and I heard Jace mutter a remarkably rude word under his breath. When the light dulls down to an elegant shine, I look over at Jace whose eyes were on the floor (probably his 'cool-guy' way of shielding his eyes from the deadly beams of the sun-like bulb).

As I look around the room, an intolerable gleam of surprise builds up in my stomach and I feel my lips part in astonished dread.

An overwhelming sense of foreboding fills my chest with an eerie poison-like emptiness, leaving me winded. If I was in my old life, I would probably be hanging out with Simon at Java Jones or drawing a majestic picture that I would undoubtedly end up tossing into the bin or living a normal life instead of constantly being strangled by fear; a vacuous beast that is unavoidable.

Having this abnormal power is like accepting my role in this abnormal world with me playing the lead as one of the abnormal people. Never can I pretend that I haven't experienced supernatural things; never can I pretend that everything will be alright; never can I pretend that I'm not scared out of my mind. If I tried to go back to the monotonous old life I crave, I'd be constantly considered crazy and who knows what would happen.

By possessing a previously impossible power, I am taking a one way ticket into a world of monsters, demons and ghoul-like creatures that used to hide under your bed as a child.

These harsh realities are of what nightmares are made of.

My head spinning like a CD in a boom box, I lean a hand against the wall and look behind me at the beautiful boy.

Slowly, Jace raises his eyes from being glued to the floor. His stunning lashes flutter before his eyes widen as they drift over the walls that are lit up with the steady glow of light. "It actually worked," he mumbled to himself absentmindedly, his deep voice almost gravelly. Raising his voice slightly, he looks at me in bewilderment, "You actually did it, Clary!"

"I...I don't know how," I say, utterly flabbergasted. "What does this mean?"

"It means," Jace's golden eyes focus on my green ones, "that we are not powerless. We might have a chance of getting out."

A/N

Hey guys, I'm so sorry that I haven't really been updating and that my writing is terrible and that nothing is really happening but hopefully that will be able to change soon. in the next chapter, I am intending to write in the point of view of a different favourite character from TMI: any guesses? Or if you have any POVs that you really want to read from that comment. Thank you to everyone who has voted, commented and added this fanfiction to their reading lists! Continue being awesome and for now, I'm signing out.