Mortal Secrets (on hold)

Chapter 01

Clary :

Vincent Van Gogh once said « I dream my painting and I paint my dream », as an art lover myself, I've come to realize that the words of the marvelous painter apply way too well to me.

It was one of those nights again where dreams assaulted my brain and tried to make their way toward my head to convert into memories.

"Mom...Mom, please. Can we go back home? I'm cold...mom" my mother is holding me tightly against her chest while running in the woods. The night is particularly chilly and the dim bluish reflection provided by the full moon is our unique source of light.

"We're almost there Sweetheart, we're almost there" my mom breathes against my neck, in a shaking voice and a shivering body.

We're running from something or...someone, but I have no idea who it is, all I can think of is the icy wind that's grazing my skin like razor blades. My mom shushes me desperately as more tears streak down my face, but I'm a three year old girl trying to escape with her mother some imminent danger in the middle of the night.

My mom's steps slow down once we finally reach a secluded cabin deep in the woods, she knocks three times, pauses for few seconds then knocks twice, while we wait for the door to open, my mom keeps glancing behind her back with my little body still in her arms. The wooden door finally opens and I see relief in my mother's face for the first time since she took from my bed that night.

"You're here" a deep male voice states, but instead of looking at his face I'm captivated by the symbol tattooed on the back of his hand, right between his thumb and index finger. Simple black lines in a diamond shape with two lines extending out on each side like wings.

When I finally lift my gaze to his face, my vision gets blurry and all the scenery around me starts evaporating slowly, a rush of panic seizes me "Mom...mom, what's going on? Mom" I cry as my whole body starts shaking.

"...ry...Clary, swee...m here...st bad dream..." the words are cut and I barely understand them "Hey sweety, calm down, it's just a bad dream" I finally make out my mom's voice, I open my eyes abruptly and realize she was the one shaking me. Her familiar auburn hair and kind green eyes instantly help me relax.

She reaches for a strand of hair and tucks it behind my ear before stroking soothingly my cheek "What was it about?" she asks sadly

I lift my hand to caress the sketch book I always keep on my night stand "The usual one" I shrug without looking at her.

She bends and kisses my forehead "Well, let's forgets about it, would we? Today is a very special day. My favorite daughter is turning eighteen" she claps her hands together in a cheerful way.

I roll my eyes but can't help the smile creeping my face "I'm your only daughter, mom" I climb out of bed and start for the bathroom. My head feels like it weighs twenty pounds this morning.

"Simon called in earlier, he'll be here in ten minutes" her muffled voice comes from my bedroom doorframe. I should probably hurry, it's a birthday tradition for me to have breakfast with my mom, Luke (my mom's friend and the closest thing I have to a father) and my best friend Simon.

As I hop under the shower faucet, I let the anxiety induced by my nightmare dissipate slowly. My muscles relax and my headache stops. I settle for a pair of faded blue jeans and a white shirt, paired with my grey converse chucks. For some weird reason, I expected my eighteenth birthday to be special, but I guess I was wrong, I mean I don't feel any different, other than a year older.

"Morning Luke" I greet my mom's friend happily, but he and my mom are too engrossed in their conversation to notice me. From the expression on their faces I take it it's quite serious.