A/N: DOUBLE UPDATE!!! If you haven't read chapter 10, go read it now! It's very important!! This is the 11th chapter so I hope you enjoy it!

~~ ^w^v ~~

Isabelle stared outside the window, watching other cars zoom past her. They were all headed somewhere, they had somewhere to be. They had a purpose of going somewhere. And what was Isabelle's? She was just going home, to get away from the person she cared out most. She laughed bitterly to herself, funny how the one that she loved most, was the one who was hurting her now. How cliché could one get? Isabelle swiped her arm across her face. She kept instructing herself not to cry, Simon isn't worth it. If he doesn't see how much you care for him, then he isn't worth crying over.

Isabelle tried convincing herself, but it just made more tears flow. She looked forward only to catch eyes with the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. The balding, middle-aged driver smiled at her sympathetically, then leaned over to the passenger's side. The driver opened up the compartment and reached inside. Isabelle craned her neck curiously and was surprised when the driver pulled out box of tissues and handed it to her.

"T-thank you." she beamed gratefully.

"No problem." he nodded at her. "Oh, and Miss, if you're hurting this much that you feel like you need to let him go, it must mean you love him. And if you love him, you need to fight for him." the driver advised. Isabelle listened to the driver's words and thought about what he was saying thoroughly.

"I will." she finally answered. …just not right now. she added.

Simon stared at the taxi as it sped off down the road. He stayed in his spot and watched the yellow car drive away until it disappeared around the corner. What had he just done? He turned around and trudged down the walkway, entering his house. He looked back down at his hands again. He had hit Isabelle. He had hurt her, had hurt his friend. Simon felt awful, she was right; she had been helping him all this time and all he had done was yell and get mad at her. He felt like an ass and rubbed his face tiredly. How would he make it up to her?

An apology didn't seem like enough...for now, so he would have to come up with something else; maybe a box of chocolates or flowers? Girls liked that didn't they?

Though, Simon's concern for Isabelle was strong, it didn't over throw his thoughts for Clary. Isabelle's words haunted him, Get over her, Simon!like a whispered curse that wouldn't leave him alone. How could he possibly get over her? He had loved the girl all his life, they were best friends who had always walked to school together. She had always been his first love and he had been so ecstatic when she had agreed to date him, but was crushed when she had chosen Jace. To get over her, would mean to forget the time they had spent together. What would happen then? And if he did get over her, would he be able to move on to another person and if so, who?

Isabelle wasn't sure what to do when she had gotten back to the Institute. She sighed she suddenly felt tired and was overwhelmed with exhaustion from the day's events. She through her jacket carelessly onto the coat rack and kicked her boots off to who-knows-where. She plopped down on the couch and sat down restlessly. She looked around her trying to find something to do; one thing for sure, was that she would not cry over Simon – She made herself promise – since she had already done a lot of that in the back seat of the taxi. So what was she suppose to do in a time such as this? She'd seen tons of those mundane movies to know that girls usually pigged out on ice cream and comfort food while yelling at chick flicks, in situations like hers. She bounced her feet unable to sit still.

"Ugh, fuck it!" she growled aggravated and not used to sitting around and doing nothing. She decided to head to the training room and release a bit of her stress through some exercises and a couple of punch bags.

When she had gotten to the room she changed into her Shadow Hunter gear and looked at herself in the floor length mirror. She had missed her black cotton tank paired with dark leather pants and combat boots; a look she had traded for floral and flowing blouses and skirts just so she could impress a certain someone. Well, that no longer applied anymore so it was back to this. She strapped on a couple of seraph blades and began her work out.

Her hand shot out and a whip formed from the serpent band she never took off. With a flick of her wrist, the whip snapped and broke a piece of wood, while making a sharp whooshing sound as it sliced through the air. Next, she grabbed at one of the seraph blades and threw it with much force towards one of the dart boards that hung on the wall. She flipped backwards, tucking in her knees and twisted her body, then flung a seraph blade into another dart board. Isabelle continued on like this until all the sharp silver blades had run out.

Isabelle panted, letting out heavy laboured breaths. Usually she would take a break, but this time she would not let herself. She wanted to go further and train until she had reached her limit. She moved over to a different part of the room, a more secluded part that made her feel even more alone and in her own world. She picked up a roll of gauze and began wrapping it around her hands. Weaving the gauze the around randomly until it covered her knuckles and wrists.

She walked up to a leather punching bag and stood in front of it. She stretched out her arms and swung them back and forth at her sides. Then she joined her hands and folded them back in on each other 'til she heard the satisfying crack she had been waiting for. Isabelle did the same with her neck, tilting her head to the right, then to the left. When, Isabelle was ready, she balled up her fists, pulled back her and delivered a punch to the bag. A loud thwack echoed through the training room as the chains rattled and the punch bag swayed.

Isabelle delivered a second punch with her other less dominant arm and continued to beat up the heavy bag. "Punch. Left jab. Right hook. Upper cut. Dodge." She muttered to herself, repeating this same pattern. She got more and more into her exercise, that she began releasing her emotions. Skin glistening with sweat and damp hair, with every lethal blow she screeched insults and curses towards the punching bag, which had suddenly resembled Simon.

"I hate you! Fuck you! Jerk!" she yelled. With every curse, her attacks grew stronger and her emotions rose higher. Isabelle's anger got to the best of her, that her hate clouded her mind; power replaced technique, her strikes became off.

Suddenly, a strong incorrectly throw caused Isabelle's wrist to collide painfully with the bag. She screamed in pain and held her injured hand gently. "Ow! Fuck! Oh my God, this hurts like bitch." she complained as angry tears fell from her dark eyes. She sat on the ground crying and cradling her injured hand. She laid down on a mat and curled up into a ball, hugging her hand close to her heart. "It hurts… it hurts…" she repeated. As she sobbed harder and harder, she realized it wasn't about her hand anymore. She was crying over Simon, the thing she promised she wouldn't do.

"It hurts…" Isabelle sniffled.

Alec walked down the hallway in his Shadow Hunter gear and carried a long sword with him. He haddn't been able to get any training done the pass couple of days and wanted to brush up on some fighting styles and practice his swordsmanship. He strode into the training room at a quick pace. He was setting down his sword, when he heard a sound come from the far end of the big room. Suspicious, he gripped the handle of the long sword and approached the sound cautiously. He edged around the corner quietly, to see a figure laying on a mat in the fetal position.

"Isabelle!" Alec exclaimed, instantly recognizing the figure as his sister. He threw down his sword and rushed over to the girl. "What's wrong? Are you okay? What happened?" he fussed, turning her to face him and pushed her raven-black hair out of her face. He pulled her up and placed her on his lap, to get a better look of her.

"I-it, it hurts…" she whimpered, clutching her older brother's arm. Isabelle leaned her head against her brother's chest, glad that she had someone to hold her as she grieved.

"What? What hurts?" he worriedly questioned, looking her over for a wound, when he spotted her swollen right hand. Her wrist was red and she winced as Alec lifted her hand to further examine it. Isabelle's lay limply in his hand and he could tell it hurt every time she moved or touched it.

"What happened to your hand?"

"I broke it." she responded indifferently.

Alec replied impatiently, "I know that, dummy. How'd you break it?"

"I was punching the bag and my technique was off." she explained.

Alec's lips formed an O-shape, realizing. Then his gaze on his sister shifted and he looked at her suspiciously. "You don't usually push yourself this much… unless you're upset. What's wrong?" he asked her, tone laced with concern. Isabelle bit her lip unsure if she should tell him of today's events. She looked up at him and he smiled down at her reassuringly, prompting her to answer, but also letting her know that he wasn't going to take silence as an answer. Isabelle let out a sigh, aware that she had no other choice and that he wouldn't leave her alone until she responded. So she took a deep breath and explained everything that had happened to her. Alec listened to everything she said carefully and his eyes darkened with every event he heard. His arms tightened protectively around his sister. He did not like how Simon had treated his sister. Not one bit. It was also one of the reasons why he did not want his little sister to go along with Simon's plan of having Isabelle be his pretend girlfriend…. but maybe it was also the fact that he didn't really get along with Simon and held no regard for him.

"I don't want you talking with him, you hear me?" he demanded.

Isabelle looked at her brother shocked. She had never seen this look of pure anger and hate, but held a protectiveness…for her… "O-Okay." she agreed weekly. Her older brother slid her carefully off his lap and placed her back on the mat. He got up slowly and brushed his pants off.

Isabelle looked up at him in confusion, "Where are you going?" she wondered. Alec stared at her his expression saying that the answer should be obvious. Still Isabelle stared at him like a doe caught in the bright headlights of a black-haired male facepalmed himself. "I'm going to give Simon a piece of my mind." he said slowly as if he was speaking to a child.

Her eyes widened and she shot up quickly, gripping onto Alec's arm. "No, no! Please don't!" she begged, she had already suffered enough humiliation and having your big brother come to your rescue wasn't exactly going to help her regain dignity points. "But, Isabelle, he hurt you." he protested, his voice angry.

"Yes, but if anyone is going to deal with him it will be me." she said determinedly. Alec stared at her intensely, seeing the defiance in her, he let out a deep breath. "Okay, fine, but I swear one more thing he does to hurt you, I'm not going to do something." he promised, but it sounded more like a threat to Isabelle. She quickly nodded, hoping that Alec would just calm down. He tilted his head slightly, letting her know he acknowledged her decision.

Alec detached his arm from Isabelle's and began walking out of the training room.

Isabelle was hesitant for a bit, but the she called, "Alec?"

"Yeah?

"Thank you."

Alec smiled at his little sister comfortingly, "You're welcome."

~~ ^w^v ~~

A/N: So I hope you guys enjoyed the 11th chapter and hope fully made up for the shortness of chapter 10 and my lack of updating. So sorry! I should've started this a couple chapters back like I did before... but I'd like to get to know all the lovely people who are reading my stories so I'll end off each update with a couple of questions. 

poor Izzy, she's so hurt  *cries*

1. who's there for you when you have a tough time? 

2. Are you as frustrated with Simon as I am?

3. If you are a writer on wattpad, how can I make my chapters private? It's not to get more followers or anything, I dont care about how many I have. I just want to make it available to my most faithful readers... is that mean?

Sorry!

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Love, life_rewritten