Summary: Rosemarie Hathaway was brutally abused by her stepfather while her mother fought for her country in the army. One day she can't take it anymore and gets rid of the horrid man. She is discovered with the murder weapon in hand. Guilty. She is sent to a Detention Academy, determined to get out until…

A/N #1: This is my first VA fanfic So go easy on me

Two almost black eyes, devoid from all feeling or emotion, stared back at the girl in the mirror. Her dark brown once loving eyes have turned cold the last few years. Her black curls hung over her shoulders, hiding some of the damage. Her tank top fit loosely over her thin frame and her matching black jeans was held up by an old tattered shoelace to her non-existent hips. She hadn't eaten in 24 hours and the dulled pain in her stomach was resurfacing again.

She turned her head towards the closed door of her only privacy. Her room was small, very small. The only thing that occupied the room was her single bed with the old, yellow blanket and the thin white pillow and the small worn out wooden cabinet that held the little amount of clothes she owned. She sighed when she heard the all too familiar voice shouting her name. That horrid sound lingered in her head, Etched into her mind. It branded her. She felt the hot iron hitting the skin of her subconscious, searing the skin.

She turned the doorknob slowly and shuffled her feet out of the room. She closed the door carefully. She knew what would happen if he heard that she 'slammed' the door. Anything would set him off these days. She hung her head low showing submission, surrender. She walked to the small kitchen just to the right at the end of the corridor. The light spilled into the dark corridor. She saw his shadow move around in the room and she suddenly got frightened. The very thought of him brought back unwanted memories and nightmares.

She entered the room and dared to look up a little. He was leaning against a countertop with a beer in his right hand. She sat down at the small table and placed her hands neatly in my lap. He walked over and slapped her in the face. Her ski burned but she didn't react. She knew that if she reacted she would get far worse.

"I told you, that being late isn't tolerated in my household, Rosemarie." He said with a strained voice. He was trying to keep his anger controlled. Her mother wouldn't be back from the Middle East in 3 months. She was in the US Army and fighting bravely in a foreign country. Her mother, the person who had the nerve to leave her with this horrid man, was gone out of her life.

She nodded meekly. He placed a plate in front of her face. A slice of bread was staring back at her. No bells and whistles, just bread.

"Eat." He commanded her. Rosemarie took small bites of the bread, savouring the taste of food in her mouth. Her stomach accepted the little nourishment she got from the food and begged for more. Begging would earn her another beating and those would leave visible marks on her body. She finished her meal too quickly and her parched throat managed a thank you. He nodded stiffly. She got up slowly, the chair scraping the tile floor. She pushed the chair back in and left the room without saying another word.

The bus that would take her to school arrived and took her to the Public school in the area. The back seat was practically reserved for her. Nobody dared to sit on her seat. Everyone was wary of her, almost scared of what she would do. She was loose cannon. The bus stopped and she got out last nodding a thank you towards the elderly bus driver. He smiled at her and she got off, joining the masses of teenagers making their way to the metal detectors at the entrance, guarded by bulky looking men that took shit from nobody.

She was an average student who did her work but never said anything. She sat in the back and brooded. The teachers knew that they wouldn't get a word out of her so they let her be. The last school bell rang and she slung her bag over her shoulder, wincing. The bruise there hadn't healed properly yet and was still very sensitive. She had gotten it the previous day when she accidentally looked up while eating. The memory of that incident made her loathing, for the man that was married to her mother, increase.

She knew that something had to be done. Her mother had told her of a place where she hid emergency equipment for her in the event of something happening to her. Rosemarie had a plan. It was crazy but she had to do it, she had to. She started running, her weak limbs barely carrying her weight. She had memorized the path as a child and her knowledge came in handy at this opportune moment.

The alley was dark and she was scared. This part of the city was dangerous, run by gangs. Now and then you'd see a man dead on the streets or someone getting mugged in a dark alley. Women barely covered standing on street corners trying to make a living. Beggars sitting on the sidewalk. This was her world.

She discovered the trap door instantly and found what she was looking for. She stuck the object in her pants at her hip and covered the top part with her shirt. This is it. Bravery, courage, anger, sadness. This was her moment to release her inner demon on the demon in her personal life. As if she had any privacy.

She walked home slowly, taking her time. The sun had set by the time she got the familiar rusted gate and it squealed as she pushed it open. She lifted her head and walked to the door with unknown confidence. He was expecting her and opened the door before she got there. His dark figure was looming in front of her. She almost regretted what she was about to do but instincts took over.

She pulled out the object and held it in front of him. He looked shocked but grinned wickedly, knowing how scared it made her. She was different this time. She didn't back down. Her finger was on the trigger, sweat dripping from her forehead. She pulled.