Chapter One: Final Straw

It hurt, but then again she'd had worse. The girl moved her face closer to the semi-full length mirror in the bathroom. The area around her left eye was still tender and it was starting to change color.

"Ah well", Ace said to herself, "at least I deserved it this time."

She sloughed off her bomber jacket revealing the week old bruises that made up the awkward checker pattern across her shoulders. Lash marks form an extension cord. Those had been awarded for leaving a wet towel on the floor to long (highly unjustifiable in Ace's opinion), but the eye and the myriad of other bruises hidden by her clothes? Those had been graciously given to her when her mother had learned about her recent expulsion from Perivale Senior.

"She sure packs a wallop. Who knew she had such a wicked right hook?" she muttered, begrudgingly.

She winced as her breathing aggravated her bruised ribs. Her mother's physical strength was legendary in Ace's eyes mostly because she had been on the receiving end of her wrath since before Ace had reached double digits. She couldn't remember when it started, but the first beating she received that ended in a trip to the hospital had been on her tenth birthday.

The nurses had believed Ace's mother, Audrey, when she told them that her daughter had fallen out of a tree causing the compound fracture in her arm. Well, they believed her the first time. On Ace's third trip to the hospital, this time with a nasty burn on her face, chest and torso, the nurses had started to ask Ace about what actually happened at home.

It had been her only chance, there were people who cared, and wanted to help, but she had frozen. She had been so afraid of her mother's retribution that she found herself repeating Audrey's story. Why anyone would believe a twelve year old would have jumped face first into a scalding bath was beyond her. The real cause of her burns had been a boiling pot of broth that Audrey had thrown at her daughter when Ace had been cheeky enough to ask for a bowl and spoon.

"DOROTHY GALE MCSHANE!" Audrey's voice thundered from the first floor of their flat causing Ace to jump back from her reflection, "Get your useless ASS down here this minute!"

Quickly, Ace grabbed her jacket and shrugged it back on before running full speed down the stairs to where she had been summoned. In the den she found her mother and her most recent 'flat mate,' Dan, taping their feet with impatience. Around them was a whirlwind of trash bags, and overnight cases that Ace was sure held everything she owned.

"Dorothy, you have been nothing but an embarrassment and a burden. I had such high hopes for you; you could have made it out of here someday, you were on the fast track! We finally got your grades to the A level and then you have to go and blow up the art room?"

"Mum, I am sor…."

"I don't want to hear it Dorothy, words can't repay the damages that you caused to the school, to say nothing of the ones to my life."

"What?" Ace asked confused.

"There shall be a reckoning this time little girl. You have lived under my protection for far too long. You will find a job that will both pay back the school and pay for your own place. I do not care where you go, or how rough it will be, you will pay the school back for the damage to that art room. There is a cab waiting outside to take you to Jan's, the little diner on Darwin Road. They need a new waitress and since you aren't suited for anything else, well you don't really have a choice, do you. When you leave this house I do not want you coming back, not now, not ever, and forget holidays, as far as we are concerned you are no longer my daughter."

Despite the anger Ace was feeling her eyes began to tear, this was cold. Since her father had left, Ace's mum, Audrey, was the only family she had and now apparently she didn't even have her.

The word 'orphan' began to race around in Dorothy's mind, and it was soon joined by other words harshly spoken in the past: orphan, little, freak, stupid, orphan, ugly, fat, useless, orphan, bitch, fool, slut, orphan, tart, fucking cunt, whore, ORPHAN! Ace felt dizzy as she picked up her hastily packed belongings and trod to the cab.

Her mind was in a haze and nothing made sense, nothing. She was careful to keep her trusty rucksack with her when she finally climbed into the vehicle. She slid her hand inside to find her last can of Nitro-9. This was familiar; the cool exterior of the can was her comfort. The metal reminded her that she was not fully helpless. If she had wanted she could have set off her homemade pyrotechnics at anytime. No, she decided, she didn't want her mother dead, but there was something that was nagging her. What was this feeling? Ace couldn't name it.

It was hot, strange that an emotion could change the temperature, but it was new. Damn, what was it?

Hate, thought Ace as her mind suddenly cleared; it's hate. I hate my mother. "Audrey Dudman McShane, I will never stop hating you." Ace said in a low voice to no one in particular as the cab drove her to her new life.