I Always Need Your Strength

Chapter 1: Hiding

'Dad... I need to tell you something, it's been a secret for a while and only Izzy knew about it.'

Robert leaned forward, his dark hair flopping lankily over his eyes as he stared at his eldest son inquisitively; he frowned. 'Yes?'

Alec took a deep breath, his heart racing faster than he thought it could. 'I'm gay.'

At first, his father leaned back in his chair. Then his eyes flickered up to Alec. His face contorted into a pale complexion of pure disgust. He stood up sharply, black eyes burning, and his palms balled in fists and one struck Alec's face hard, sending flashes of agony through his cheek and eyelid.

'You aren't no son of mine!' Robert yelled, striking him again and again. 'Faggot!'

'Stop,' Alec screamed out. 'Stop.'

Alexander Lightwood woke up with a jolt in his back and sat upright hastily. His heart was slamming painfully against his chest - just like in the nightmare. His long black hair was plastered to his temples and neck with sweat and he was breathing heavily as if he'd been sprinting.

'Alec!' Jace's voice interrupted his reverie harshly. 'Are you up?'

He flopped back down on his bed, black hair fanning around himself and the pillow. He closed his eyes wearily. Monday. The dreaded day when hell started all over again.

'Alec?'

He sat bolt upright and yelled, 'Yeah, I'm up. Leave me alone!'

He heard his adoptive brother chuckle behind the door. 'Just hurry the hell up, okay?'

Alec's gaze went skyward and decided it was the only way to wake himself up properly; slowly he rolled toward to end of his mattress and landed on the ground with a loudish thud. He ignored the agony that shot up his left arm to his collarbone; it wasn't like pain was anything new to him.

He stumbled like a zombie toward the bathroom. It looked like a smaller version of a construction sight; his father has been attempting to redecorate, but it wasn't turning out to be too successful.

Alec reached toward the mirror which was half-hanging from the wall and tried to set it straight. In the reflection he saw a pale-skinned boy with straight ink-black hair - just above his jawline - and light cobalt eyes. The boy's lips were pressed into an angry thin line, barely noticeable. He blinked his blue eyes. Was the reflection even him? His eyes were burning furious cobalt fire.

He blinked again and the reflection turned back to Alec. Old, loyal, innocent, lonely, depressing Alec who rarely smiled.

He remembered his dream - his nightmare. His father's fist striking his embarrassed helpless face. He shook his head vigorously, as if to shake the bad thoughts out. He looked at himself in the mirror again.

Gay. You're gay. "Faggot!"

He glared around at the bathroom, whose walls were white and cracked. Alec pictured the walls giving in and falling around and on him, and honestly didn't care, even a part of him wished it would happen.

He saw a smallish papercutter on the side and his eyes glinted. The metal reflected from the dim lighting of the lighting and before he could tell himself 'no!' he was grasping the metal and slicing deep, narrow cuts into his pale wrists.

The pain - the pain of the fear, the pain of praying he'd wake up one day and he would be attracted to women, the pain of...

'Alec,' his sister, Isabelle yelled. 'I don't give a crap whether you're butt naked twerking, you need to hurry up.'

The door flung open, weak hinges squeaking, and Alec swore and hastily began rolling down his sleeve and wiping the fresh blood on the papercutter onto his loose shirt.

He wasn't fast enough.

Isabelle stared at her elder brother, her face a pure picture of horror, black eyes shining with tears.

'Not again, Alec,' she said. 'Not again.'