A/N Here's part 2! To clarify, in this one 'she' is Isabelle, 'her brother' is Alec, and 'he' is (usually) Simon. It's kind of scary; this one has exactly the same number of words as the other one. I swear I wasn't trying to do it, it just came out that way. :)


She is holding on to the memory of him with everything she has left, and she doesn't think she has much. He may have left her here (just because she isn't going to stay young and beautiful and perfect forever like him). He haunts her actions (he's there every time she moves) and her thoughts (he is every thought), smiling so widely like he always did. Her heart skips a beat (because of his smile, or is she dying?).

Her brother (eyes just like that sapphire stone her ring), finds her curled up on her bed, eyes bloodshot and frame trembling with memories she almost doesn't want to remember. Arms are holding her (but not the right ones) and she isn't sure what she's just done until her brother pulls away, hand suddenly stained red with something (she knows it's blood, she knows she did that). Her brother looks at her with a mixture of pity (because she's obviously hurt) and disgust (because she's so much stronger than this). She watches as her brother walks away, hears the door slam, and feels her brother's heartache that matches her own (except it doesn't, because the boy with blue hair still comes around, he doesn't count).

He is there when her mother is dead, and she imagines (she's sure she's only imagining, he wouldn't really be able to be there so fast) that he holds her, his hands warm and comfortable as they stroke her hair. She hears his voice, absolutely convincing, telling her it will be ok, even though she knows it won't. Her mother is already dead, she can feel blood seeping out of her side, draining away her own life. He is saying he loves her (still), that he won't leave her (again), and she needs with all her (wasted) soul to believe him. She clings to him, memorizing everything about him that she can. Fair skin, deep brown eyes (covered by glasses he doesn't need), not-quite-long dark hair, and soft pink lips (they taste like sweet peppermint). Even if he is only imaginary, even if he'll go away and leave her and kill her all over and over and over again it's worth it just for this one moment.

Pain hits her like a shock wave, emanating from the hold in her side (she always knew she would die like this). She whispers his name (simon), then again (Simon), louder (SIMON), until the only thing holding her there is his name. Something else bites into her side (fear?) and then it bites harder (help?), and she closes her eyes against the hurt (no more of that, please). When she opens them, he's gone, but her brother's hand is clasped around hers and she's staring up into a bright, fluorescent light attached to the ceiling.

She screams as loud as she can, a high pitched ear splitting wail (but he can't hear her). Her brother wrenches his hand away, standing up and trying to calm her down, shushing her and telling her it's going to be alright (it won't it wont it won't). She screams and screams and screams until her throat is dry and her cheeks are wet, and so are her brother's because he knows he's lost her (but did he ever really have her?). The world around her is blurry and she can't see anything that isn't him (he's only in her head), she stops her tears but she still can't focus. There are spots of color and light dancing around her mind, following her everywhere when all she wants is for them to go away.

She doesn't want to close her eyes, so she leaves them open as long as she can, fixed on the ceiling (tracing patterns, like he taught her to do). She doesn't want to fall into his arms (yes, she does) because she'll have to leave them again so soon, too soon, she can't do that. Depressed. Comatose. Dead. Those are words that describe her at this moment, laying on her back, tracing patterns in the ceiling, and not (not) thinking about him. She won't think about him (she will, and it kills her).

It's cliché, she thinks, the girl who looses herself because she lost a boy (no, not just a boy, the boy), and she wonders where along these lines she walks did she become that girl? She wasn't supposed to be like this (but he wasn't supposed to leave her), and she always said she knew it would end (but she didn't think it would be that soon). He was just sixteen (seventeen? eighteen? twenty?) and he'd stay that way forever, and after she thinks it over, she realizes that it's her fault.

She took him to that party, she made him drink. She brought this upon herself, all the pain, all the heartache (her fault). She wants to scream again, but she knows screaming only upsets everyone and does nothing to help her (nothing can help her). She doesn't want to be this girl. All she wants is him. He saved her life (was it just a week ago?), but did she really want him to? Shouldn't he have just left her there? It would be better than this (better than being without him). She wants to hate him for it (he thought she would be ok), she wants to kill him and kill herself and kill every moment they ever had just like she's killed all the other demons (in the city and in her mind).

She traces those patterns, the lovely ones he told her about (a million years ago in this very bed), hearts (her broken one) and birds and rings (the one on her finger) and everything else that doesn't matter to her anymore. The thoughts in her head are empty, like the smile on her mouth and the place in her chest where her heart used to be. He took it away (he was the only one who could ever reach it).


Did you catch some of the things that appeared in both chapters, like the ring, the boy with blue hair (Magnus), and the patterns on the ceiling? Maybe I'll do something else with that, but not right now. There's too many other projects to finish first...

I hope you enjoyed this, and please, if you could, review? Thanks!

-Echo1317