Russia 1987
I jumped from a window knowing the front door would be locked. I had to leave before Freddy saw me again.
Before the other kids came back for me again.
Even if Freddy being merciful as he was decided to spare me from the certain punishment of being abandoned once more, the thought of lowering myself to such an undignified depth was far, far worse.
Not to mention what the other children had in store for the new bully who had the cruelty to beat up their leader.
Their leader who was probably despite his faults, a very attractive and popular boy who deserved much more respect than I had shown him when I lashed out simply because...
...
"It wasn't even your own fault. Those nasty kids were the ones who brought it upon themselves. If anything now they know to keep their hands off you if they know what's good for them" blurted out Shego unintentionally.
Even she wasn't going to let Ann continue to justify why those dimwitted barbarians back in that horrible place were supposed to be the ones that Ann rooted for.
In fact if it was Shego back in that orphanage with or without her superpowers, that so called ringleader would have been dealing with more than just a broken nose. And the others stupid and thoughtless enough to be part of his so called gang of buddies wouldn't have even had the chance to talk to this clearly very careless and apathetic "Freddy" before Shego was done venting out her undiluted fury on those idiots who were far too unruly to even be classed as proper villains.
...
Russia 1987 "My way or the highway"
It didn't feel good at all Shego. It felt terrible to have hit someone with so little compassion and for no good reason.
But feelings could be saved for later I said to myself as I rushed into a room which I happened to remember had a large window.
And with two smooth movements I flung the window open and jumped out.
Even though I was only on the second floor when all this took place, it was still a long way down but in my panic I had not the time to consider that.
I somehow got down to the ground below with no bones broken thanks to the thick snow which helped cushion my descent.
And without looking back I sprinted for the nearest gate.
For a fraction of a second I hesitated knowing full well that I was leaving behind food, shelter and the prospect of ever finding one trustworthy friend who really understood me.
Then I ran like there was no tomorrow down directions I made up as I went along and only stopped when my legs felt as if they would break in half. I had left behind one life in exchange for another. And I knew from the get go that nothing good awaited a quick tempered puncher with no friends.
...
So how did you end up here with such a lovely family, such a talented daughter and such a great job which probably required tons and tons of degrees? Shego thought to herself.
...
Russia 1988 "My way or the highway"
News of the orphanage closing down soon made the paper. If the rumours I heard while cowering in the safety of dark alleys were to be believed then hardly a fortnight later, someone had ratted the poor benefactor away to authorities and his lifelong dream of sheltering children in need was no more.
His orphanage ruined and the children left with the snow outside and pigeons for food.
All my fault.
Even if we had never been as close as we should have been considering we were all in the same boat of having lost our parents long before we were supposed to take care of ourselves, I took a while each night to pray for the other children whose lives I had made hell with my antics.
Most of all though, I prayed for the boy who from what I last heard of him from whispers on the streets was lying in hospital with eight stitches in his broken nose. People pitied him as they spoke of how even if he hadn't been the nicest child in the world, the devil and little brat who was brash enough to swing her fist into him at so little provocation was the true perpetrator.
And if that little girl was ever seen again that they should have a good old classic lynch mob to brighten up the mood of everyone's bleak lives a little. That and to set an example that even this lawless land with no proper leaders had its standards.
Call it wild and needless paranoia or even just a stupid and unneeded decision to make my already miserable life even less enjoyable, but I never wore my hair as long as I used to since the day I heard those words of warning.
Don't ask me how I cut it though.
My problems didn't end there though. As brave and tough as I tried to be, I still needed something to eat.
But begging for food was not something I could bring myself to do anymore. Not since a permanent mark had appeared on my right knuckle from when I sacrificed the last shred of goodness in myself. And even when I did force myself to grovel and plead for any last morsel anyone might want to spare me, the answer was a short and sharp no as I was almost shooed off as quickly as I had come.
A child should not be out and about wandering without a responsible man or woman nearby was the reply I sometimes got when I asked the reason no one wanted to give me anything. "You can only be up to no good therefore and it's in your best interest to go back to your parents before we turn you over to the police" a few even added.
And they were of course right. Very, very right.
I had thought myself already the worst person alive by then, but somehow I sunk even lower than that.
Being a girl who was both blessed and cursed with an almost perfect memory meant that I had remembered bad things being said about the many factories where even those deemed too useless for the rest of society could find gainful employment. Gainful enough to survive on at least.
My parents in fact told me of countless dangers that came to most foolish enough to venture to the slaughterhouses designed as good and honest workplaces.
Saw-blades drills and long hours spent down in cramped underground mines filled with valuable metals and rocks but also horribly poisonous fumes were just some of the dangers that awaited those wishing to take a last chance for their bread after all else failed.
The only other options for the seven year old me were fancier jobs in fancier places like those nice cafe's and shops that the richer people in our town went to visit.
But if people were willing to refuse help to me simply because of my shifty movements and my less than desirable age, it was a safe bet that any semi decent establishment would not want an underage beggar girl showing up at their door.
They had to keep a good image after all for the tourists and the rich which were their sources of income and why take a dirty young tramp like me over one of the richer girls who looked to me like they were from another world.
It was then that I made the biggest blunder in my life. One that topped my previous mistake of hitting that boy in the home of a man who I would now never be able to repay for his kindness.
Taking a jealous glance at two well dressed ladies buying and eating a hot dog one day, I managed eventually to convince myself that it was either my way or the highway.
And the highway was a dangerous path full of dead animals which no one in their right mind would be foolish enough to try to walk on.
I decided, I decided to steal in the streets.
...
"You what?" sputtered the second child of the Go family, her earlier tirade of emotions becoming one of utter shock as Ann said the words "steal in the streets."
...
Russia 1988 "Princess of thieves"
Its true Shego. Back then as a immature and reckless kid, I too had no respect for the law.
I would wait until the owners of a home left their houses and then sneak out from my hiding place to raid whatever I could before legging it.
At first I stuck with houses near the edge of the rural urban fringe knowing that these would be less guarded and spaced further apart from each other to afford the owners all the privacy they desired. All the privacy I desired too when I broke into house after house looting as much as I could carry in a rucksack which I had found during my first such raid which was very simple since the owners put their keys under their doormat.
It was a beautiful and well made little thing, clearly designed for a young boy or girl to take their books to school.
Judging by the family photo on the table where I found it, I guessed it was a boy with green eyes and a nervous smile.
It took all my willpower that time to force myself to ignore the happy family photo and continue my raid by first taking everything in the fridge and cupboards which I could carry and then collecting as much water from a nearby tap as I could using a cute little bottle I found in my new rucksack.
I left the rest be since I knew that food and water were the only things I needed to stay alive.
I got more and more sadistic with the next house going as far as to loot a fashionable and warm little coat along with the usual food and drinks. Warmth would help keep me from starving for longer and protect me from hypothermia which food would not.
"They're rich and I'm poor. I don't think they'll miss a few of their things going to me and they'll be doing me a favour" I thought as I took even more items that were not food at the third house which I got through by breaking a hole in the back window large enough for me to get through using a rock.
A few books would keep me preoccupied and help teach me useful things that only the rich children usually got to see, and a cuddly teddy would help me stay even warmer at night and sleep much more comfortably. Particularly if I take the matches in the cupboard which would last even me a while.
But instead of learning that stealing was wrong and that I was becoming a terrible person, I grew bolder and bolder and went for house after house.
Sometimes I had to climb over tall stony walls and sometimes I had to pick a lock, but it all seemed just so much fun.
My ego got the better of me one warm and pleasant summer night.
Not a breath of wind so I could easily hear if anyone was around.
This owner hadn't even been clever enough to close his window so there was no need for me to go through the trouble of picking the lock which had been easy since I found an ice pick.
It was a tiny opening but overconfidence made me stupid and I tried anyway to squeeze in.
I forced myself through the opening eventually yet the smallest mistake did me in.
I stepped on a loose floorboard which I did not see in the darkness. If the loud creak wasn't bad enough, then having me trip and fall onto the ground with a mighty thud was all it took to get the attention of the occupant upstairs.
A very light sleeper for good reason, he was a hunter since I would soon come to become well acquainted with his faithful rifle.
Loud footsteps were already ringing from upstairs by the time I was scrambling to my feet and began making for the window through which I came knowing my robbery attempt had gone horribly wrong.
But by the time I had forced myself back out the window, I had heard a low growl followed by a terrifyingly loud boom which I would only later recognise as the sound of a gun being fired.
Knowing I had no time to waste, I ran with a level of fear I had never once felt before. Adrenaline and a tirade of other chemicals I felt racing in me lent me strength I as a seven year old girl was not supposed to come close to. And so this time when I sprinted into the woods which the house I had attempted to steal from happened to be situated next to, I felt no tiredness, no need to pant.
The only thing I felt was a excruciating sensation in my right shoulder. Like someone had set fire and the skin on that now very painful shoulder was peeling off bit by bit.
And unable to resist the morbid curiosity growing inside me as I grew more and more delirious by the seconds even as I continued to flee hearing the domineering shouts of my pursuer behind me, I dared to turn my head to face the part of my shoulder where it hurt.
And saw a bizarre gleaming metallic object embedded into a small but no less horrific injury which was spewing out too much blood for me to look at.
I felt tired, I felt weak.
Began to feel as if I could run no more as I uncontrollably began to stagger despite my best efforts to shrug off this awful feeling.
I was falling, flailing weakly on the muddy forest floor. With my last breaths I saw a thin trail of blood.
And then my fear turned to happiness as the blackness which promised release from everything took me away.
And happiness turned to satisfaction. Satisfaction that I had finally in a way been brought to justice for all the bad things I had done in my short and immoral life of caring only about myself.
Always taking what wasn't mine. Always jumping to violence when it wasn't called for.
It was what I deserved.