I Hate You (IN EDITING)

Chapter 14

The small town was beautiful at night. The locals were nice—for the most part—and it was calming, overall. There were small lights strung up around an outdoor restaurant's patio, and you could see the groups of people dining there.

The sun had set long ago, and a cool breeze had easily broken through Clary's t-shirt. She was reminded, once again, that she was wearing days old clothes, full of sand. Her hair was still messy, but she'd managed to comb through it with her fingers, so now it at least looked slightly presentable. But what did it matter? She lost years worth of memories, and who knows how many lies had been invented to keep her from the truth. And just the fact that Alec had been the one to tell her this, and not Isabelle, or Magnus, or her Mom, told he something she didn't want to know. Of course she knew they thought it was best for her, but the fact that they thought lying to her was better than the truth, it stung a little. It really hurt.

At that point, she was glad her phone was still tucked underneath her pillow-otherwise she'd be pestered with calls and texts, when all she wanted was to be alone. Away from all of them. Clary, you're being stupid, her brother's voice rang through her head. "I don't want to hear it, Jon," Clary mumbled to herself. This will only make things worse. "I don't care. I want to be away from it, far away," she probably sounded crazy, but it felt as if she were having a real conversation with Jonathan, and it made her heart hurt. So badly. She wanted to be able to hold him, one more time. "Don't be stubborn," Jon said, and Clary's head snapped up immediately, looking around frantically.

She was going crazy, Clary was sure of it.

There, standing a little ways away, was Jonathan. His fair hair blowing in the breeze, and his green eyes lively and looking right at her. It's not real, she told herself. Jonathan is dead. "Go away!" Clary near shouted at him. It wasn't him, though, it couldn't be. Jonathan is DEAD! She internally screamed at herself. "You didn't miss me, little sister?" He asked, walking closer to her. Clary backed away, onto the empty road. She tripped over the curb, and stumbled around before she finally fell to her knees. There was a burning sensation in them, she had probably scraped them on the pavement. She buried her face in her hands, crying hysterically. "You're dead, you're dead," she repeated.

A hand began rubbing up and down her back, she turned to look, as tears ran down her cheeks rapidly. "I'm not, Clary," he said. "I'm not dead." Clary looked at him, beginning to hyperventilate. Her breathing coming in short wheezing noises. She pulled herself away from him, moving slowly on her knees, making the burning sensation worse. Jonathan was crouching, where she had just been sitting. Clary stumbled, putting her hands out, to push herself back to her feet. She took unsteady steps backwards, as tears stained her cheeks. Jonathan stood up, sighing, he stayed standing where he was. "I'm going crazy," Clary said, to herself. "I'm going absolutely crazy. I'm seeing my dead brother, I lost my memory, I'm a disaster, I'm crazy," Clary mumbled.

She wiped at her eyes, trying to clear her vision, sure that when she could see clearly, Jonathan would be gone. Clary looked ahead, trying to regulate her breathing, and sure enough, Jonathan was gone. "I'm so utterly crazy," Clary breathed, covering her eyes with her hand. Suddenly, she was wrapped in someone's arms. Their embrace was tight. Clary looked up, and was met with the same green eyes as her own. "I'm loosing it," Clary mumbled. "I've already lost it."

"Shh," he said, burying his face in her curls. "Stop it; you're not crazy," Clary looked up at him, her eyes slightly blurry with tears. "My brother died three years ago," she said. He shook his head, his eyes glossy. "I knew I shouldn't have left. Look at you," he muttered, holding her tighter. Clary knew that Jonathan would be gone-he wasn't real, after all-soon, so she hugged him back, needing the comfort from her brother. Something she'd missed since he'd died.