THREE

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«——— CHAPTER THREE———»
FIELD TRIP

THE SOFT KNOCKS ON THE bedroom door went unheard beneath the music that played from the record player that spun a track in the corner

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THE SOFT KNOCKS ON THE bedroom door went unheard beneath the music that played from the record player that spun a track in the corner.

Stevie Nicks sang her heart out over the groovy music and Mayla was so entranced in her studies to notice that her bedroom door had opened.

She didn't notice the group that had snuck in, silently giggling at their plans. A hand tapped on her shoulder and she pulled herself away from her notes, spinning around in her chair.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"

Her family stood there. Jocelyn holding a cake with candles in her hands. Simon and Luke holding arms full of wrapped gifts as she started to harmonize the 'Happy birthday' tune, Simon adding in some advanced runs.

"Surprise!" Clary beamed.

Mayla got to her feet, pushing her chair away to look down at the... interesting cake. It had a messy crumb-coat and janky letters that read. "Happy Birthday, M!" With heart candies decorating the top of the cake.

She laughed. "Oh, my god! It's beautiful!"

Simon shrugged. "Clary and I learned the hard way that what you do isn't easy."

"Like at all." Clary chuckled.

"I love it."

Jocelyn held the cake up. Luke said to her. "Go on, make a wish."

Mayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She smiled for she blew out a soft breath. She opened her eyes and...

She was on a cold metal floor again. Resting her head between her knees, she hugged her legs form the cold. She had been given a room on board.

It had a window, a bed, and a table and chair in the corner. A lamp on her bedside. It was a pathetic cold room. She had watched the sun set and rise all through the small circular window locked shut with a spell.

Mayla wanted to understand her father. What was the reason? Why was he doing this to her?

What did he expect? Did he think that he could just bring her on board, keep her locked up and hop back into her life?

She doesn't remember him. She only remembers what he did to her. The experimentations in a white room. The testing of what she could endure. Her body could handle a lot, her adolescent mind, not so much.

Those nightmares still haunt her. The room, that chair, that light. They still flash before her eyes in her sleep. She still wakes up in a cold sweat... just now she knows why. She knows where they come from, and who did that all to her.

Now she knew the man behind it and he expects her to accept him?

Her biggest concern was what he wanted out of this. If she didn't accept him. If she didn't choose Valentine, the Circle and use her powers for their cause... is she dead? Will he finish off what he tried so hard to do so many years ago?

SENTINELS | Alec Lightwood²Where stories live. Discover now