When a girl discovers that she is different from her classmates, she tries to fit in.

She buys new clothes, cuts her hair, she does things to get in the worshiped crowd.

But she never really gets admitted. Even if she does get welcomed, she is different from the rest.

She is an outsider.

And if you don't get accepted, than you really are an outsider.

You have to make a new identity to stop being that one who is different.

Make up a new persona, a new personality.

And that never really works, does it?

Except the fact that it worked for me.

Karma is really a bitch, isn't it Jace Herondale?


Names. Thrown at me, over and over and over.

Things, too. Books, bags, and even food.

It wasn't my fault that Jace was a complete and utter hog.

I was his torment.

From a young age, Jace and I had been close friends. Our parents had gushed about how cute of a 'couple' we were, and my mother even spewed out tears when she spotted Jace and I holding hands.

Not anymore.

As soon as we entered middle school, Jace had decided to leave me on my own. I didn't make any friends, determined that Jace would realize what an ass he was being, and come marching back.

That never happened, and by the time I was in the end of seventh grade, I realized that. Everyone was taken, so it was final. Clarissa Adele Fairchild would not have any friends until, maybe, college.

Jace had made quick friends, and by the time eighth grade rolled around, he had enough looks to draw up a fan club.

And that is when the bullying started.

Out of nowhere, Jace came up too me during study hall, calling me a fag. He continued, calling me a new name everyday. I went home crying almost everyday, wondering if what Jace had said was true.

I bet that Jace could tell, I bet that he could see my red eyes, my scars. But he never stopped.

Until the day that my family moved to California.

Luke had gotten a new job - head of a popular publishing agency - which required us too move.

I jumped at the chance. spending three years suntanning, shopping, and catching up with the trends.

So, when I was sent to New York again, I cried, not wanting to face Jace and the other bullies that probably awaited me back at The Institute.

But then I remembered.

I had changed.

No longer that scrawny glasses girl, I was now a tanned, beautiful woman who took shit from nobody.

So, just wait Jace. I'm here to make your life a living hell. Just wait...