City of Bones
Your name is Clary Fray.
You are a 15 year old girl living in Brooklyn, New York with your mother, Jocelyn Fray.
You are both fiery redheads, but although she is tall and willowy, you are petite and what most would consider cute. However, something you have in common, is that you are both amazing artists.
Although you are sometimes self-conscious of your petite stature and what you consider a ‘lack of curves’, you are happy in your own skin and have accepted who you are and that you should be proud of it.
You never met your father, but your mother has always told you that he was in the military and died a hero. There is a portrait of him in your living room, and once a year, your mother pulls out a box with his initials, J.C., and she hides in her room, but you can hear her crying.
You have asked her questions about her life before she had you and about your father, but she refuses to tell you anything specific, and instead makes very vague answers that could honestly be about any couple.
You sometimes wonder if she even existed before your birth, but you quickly dismiss it because… well, your life isn’t that interesting.
Your best friend since forever is Simon Lewis. He is your age with messy brown hair, a nerdy sense of fashion, and glasses. But don’t tell him that, he’s a ‘hipster’.
As you walk home from school together, Simon has an idea.
“Let's drop off your stuff at your house and then go somewhere.” He sends you a lopsided smile.
You are a 15 year old girl living in Brooklyn, New York with your mother, Jocelyn Fray.
You are both fiery redheads, but although she is tall and willowy, you are petite and what most would consider cute. However, something you have in common, is that you are both amazing artists.
Although you are sometimes self-conscious of your petite stature and what you consider a ‘lack of curves’, you are happy in your own skin and have accepted who you are and that you should be proud of it.
You never met your father, but your mother has always told you that he was in the military and died a hero. There is a portrait of him in your living room, and once a year, your mother pulls out a box with his initials, J.C., and she hides in her room, but you can hear her crying.
You have asked her questions about her life before she had you and about your father, but she refuses to tell you anything specific, and instead makes very vague answers that could honestly be about any couple.
You sometimes wonder if she even existed before your birth, but you quickly dismiss it because… well, your life isn’t that interesting.
Your best friend since forever is Simon Lewis. He is your age with messy brown hair, a nerdy sense of fashion, and glasses. But don’t tell him that, he’s a ‘hipster’.
As you walk home from school together, Simon has an idea.
“Let's drop off your stuff at your house and then go somewhere.” He sends you a lopsided smile.