Scars

Prologue

Cries, Cries.

Everything was quiet, all but the cries of a child.

Carla opened her door and found a baby in a basket. Her hair shined a ruby red and her eyes a vibrant Green, a color so green the emeralds on her blanket felt shame.

Who would leave a beautiful child on a single women's porch? Carla stepped onto the porch and looked both ways and straight a head. There was no one for miles. Picking up the basket by the handle, Carla brought the child inside and put her on the table in the dinning room.

Picking up her phone she almost dialed for the police but thought against it, she'd just go there before work in the morning.

Morning came and Carla took the child to social services. There was no record of the baby, and it was only a few days old. The social workers did a lot of paper work on the child and asked Carla if she would be the parent or if they should put the baby in the system.

Carla grew up in the system and never wanted a child to go through that if they didn't have to, so Carla took her in.

She named the baby Nemesis. She wanted a meaning to her child's name so being Greek she named her Nemesis meaning goddess of revenge. No one should leave there child, so Carla believed the child's true parents deserved whatever comes to them.

------------

Ten years later...

The head beams if a truck came flying toward us at an unnatural speed. The driver flicked on his high beams and blinded me and my mother. For about give seconds we couldn't see but that was long enough for my world to change. The light turned green, but all we could make out was the shade if it because we she still blinded. We were in a hurry to get to the set of my mother's new movie, so being here she stepped on the gas.

A Mac truck came out of no where and honked his horn, my mother tried to swerve but it was to late. The metal of her door was already bending, everything for me was going in slow motion. My mother's head flew forward and hit the steering wheel and the air bag ascended, slamming her back into the seat. My seat belt was tight so I didn't move much, but My mother was going everywhere.

More of the metal bent and soon I saw blood from where the metal was braking into her skin. The man that was driving the Mac truck flew threw his windshield and landed on our car. The sudden stop of the Mac truck caused the trailer on the back of it to come off the ground and crush the entire front of the car. I heard every detail of the metal and every screech of the crushing items. I looked to my mother and just before the top of the car crushed her from the impact she yell, "Nemesis, don't ever forget you are my daughter and I LOVE YOU!"

And in those two seconds she was gone and my head flew forward, because of another car rear ending the accident, it hit the crushed metal in front of me and everything went black.

I woke up in the hospital with some ladies dressed in suits telling me I was going to a holding family.

After three weeks if being held prisoner in the hospital I was let go with the warming of not to have much movement for another week. I was taken to the foster or "holding" home. There was another girl maybe five years older then me, and an eighteen year old boy who snuck out ever night, who where also at the home. The foster parents gave two craps about us, they only wanted the check that came for them every two weeks.

After a year in that flipping hole, I escaped into the streets to take refuge. For six months, I moved from abandon house to abandon house, teaching myself the needs of survival in the streets. I taught myself to fight, to cheat, to steal, and most importantly to run.

For months I ran and stopped and ran and stopped. After getting together enough money I took a train out of Jersey and into New York. Not even and hour after I got there, did I find troubled. Three men were looking for me because I stole there money from right under their noses. I was hiding behind a gym in the trash cans when the lid opened. I prepared myself to jump out,but the man that was looking at me was none of the three looking for me. Concern was written on his face, no one had ever given me that look except my mother. This man genuinely cared.

He asked why I was hiding in his trash can and I told him everything from when and why I left Jersey to now. He offered me a place to stay and I took it, the next morning he told me that over night he had fixed it so that he was now my foster parent.

Being a retired fighter he taught me everything he new on top of everything I had taught my self. I was back in school, and being a normal kid, minus the fight training. I stayed on top of my grades and when I turned fifteen Alan, my new foster parent, got me fights so I could earn my stay because I told him I didn't want to be mooching off of him.

Every year we celebrated my birthday and every year he took my to my mother's grave. I learned Carla wasn't my true mother but she was my only mother. When I turned eighteen all my mother's assets would be mine, but for now Alan and I supported myself.

At school I am the quiet, smart, and meek need girl, but on the streets everyone knew my name and I was a force to be reckoned with.