City of Bones Parody

Chapter One

"Oh, god. That was awful. I hate it when the Java Jones cashier gives me that look. She's so awful," I groan, and Simon sighs.

"If you didn't want to go, then why did you say yes?" He inquires, and gives me a sideways glance.

"I don't know," I whine. "I just didn't want to be at home. I haven't been out of the house in a week."

"Clary, we could have gone somewhere else. We can still go to Luke's bookstore, if you want," Simon offers, and I huff.

"Nah, mom told me I had to come straight home. She and Luke wanted to tell me something, I guess," I say, and add, "I'm just gonna walk home. I gotta think."

He looked skeptical, but after some reasoning we say our goodbyes and he walks down the street. Brooklyn was a strange place, and he didn't like it when I walked home alone.

But it was daylight, and people were passing by me without sparing a second glance. Not that there was a first glance, anyway.

I walked home, my tennis shoes padding on the sidewalk and the light warming my face and hands. It was cold, and I was wearing my favorite blue jacket.

I finally got to my house, which was more like a small apartment. It was originally a 3 story house, but it was separated into 3 apartments. Madame Dorothea lives on the first story, my mom and I on the second, and a family on the third.

I walk up the steps, and open the door. The house is made of old dark wood, and teeters between nice and okay.

I walk up the stairs, and stand in front of the door to my house. I hadn't actually thought of what my mom was going to say to me, but oh well. She was probably going to lecture me about staying out late again.

I sighed, and opened the door. I walk through the threshold, and sling my bag on the peg.

Mom and Luke were sitting on the couch, watching tv and talking. They seemed to be pretty serious, because they looked tense, and stressed.

My mom and Luke aren't very old. They're both in their early 30's, but not old at all.

Mom is an artist, and her hair is a pretty reddish brown color. She is tall and lean, with thin hands. She wears long sleeves almost all the time, and I roll my eyes at the memories.

Luke is different, but similar. He sort of reminded me of a lumberjack at first, but then I got used to it and he just looked...Lukish.

Luke is tall, and between strong and average. His hair is short and dark brown, with a patch of white at the front. I don't know where it came from, but he said it was just a bunch of genetic stuff. Luke also sometimes wears glasses, and wears old leather jackets, worn out jeans, and t-shirts. He has a house outside the city that I spend the summer in, so I guess that's why he dressed the way he does.

My mom and Luke have a mutual relationship. They're like best friends, but they're not dating, and have never even suggested it. I find Luke staring at mom sometimes, but I don't say anything.

Unlike some other kids, I wouldn't mind Luke as a father. It is sort of an awkward subject, but I've known him forever and he is sort of a fatherly figure.

"...Clary, are you listening?" I hear mom say. I never said anything, or asked, but I can detect a small hint of a British accent in mom and Luke's voices.

"Uh, oh yeah. Before we talk, can we have lunch? I didn't eat much already," I suggest slowly. I did eat a few slices of pizza and coffee at Java Jones, but I just want to stall for as long as possible. I need to come up with an excuse for last night, because if they knew I went to that club....