Ash to Ashes

My fingers shook. I could not believe I had done that. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and quaked my knees. My lip trembled. My fingertips were stained red, the almost burgundy color smudging my wrist and palms also.

I washed the dishes, and then rewashed them and washed them again. It was a nervous habit of mine. Wanda always complained about little specks on the china, and dammit, by the time I was done with these dishes, specks would be a thing of the past. I scrubbed until my pale fingers were red and raw, and then moved on to scrub the windows, furniture and floors. Exhausted, I dragged myself to Wanda's office and lightly knocked on the door frame.

"Wanda?" I called out tentatively. "Wanda, I--"

"What?" Wanda bellowed, opening the door and narrowing her eyes at me. "What is it, you twit? Are you finished doing your chores terribly?" Her glare pierced into me, and my words sputtered and died in my throat. My gaze dropped to the floor in surrender.

I tried to speak again. "I-- well, I should think that..."

"Mumbling!" Wanda fussed. "You know how I hate the mumbling, Ash!"

"Y-yes! I finished!" I cried, and then winced at my tone. I had never spoken this loudly to Wanda before. Her eyes bulged and her ears turned red. She lifted her hand and smacked me, clipping my jaw. I cringed, but said nothing, my eyes downcast.

"Get out of my sight, you useless hag! Back to your room!" Wanda screeched. "After everything I've done for you, fed you, housed you, gave you work! Get out!"

A small noise clawed at the back of my throat, a strange, strangled sound. Panic gripped me, and as Wanda lifted her hand for a second strike I turned and ran.

They other orphans, dressed in gray as the law permitted, watched me with indifferent eyes. The Orphan Act of 2046 ensured that all orphans must be housed, but the law overlooked living conditions to make certain that at least everyone had shelter. They would not miss me here. My absence meant one less mouth to feed and more blankets.

I was too different than them: my stutter made me a target for bullying. My appearance was too different from theirs. All the other orphans had muddled brown eyes and mousy brown hair. My straight dark hair, pale skin and serious gray eyes made me seem unapproachable. That combined with my freckle-spotted body, lanky height and a stutter sealed my chances of making friends.

Anyway, I was only a month away from turning sixteen, where I would be kicked out from the Orphan House and into the Orphan Service Law of 2052. It hardly seemed fair, but the law was the law and no one really cared about the forgotten children. Adoption was unheard of, something of myths and rumors whispered late at night.
I ran right past my room and down the hallway to a window. Shoving it open, I eased myself out of it and fell six feet into the bushes lining the outsides of the building. Above me I could hear the chaos of girls tattling on me and Wanda screeching into her holo-phone.
Panicked, I crawled from the bushes, wincing in pain where the branches nicked my flesh. The siren of a CopperBot punctuated the night and quickened my pulse. I ran into the night and ducked into alleyways.

I had never been outside the orphanage before. Well, at least as far as I can remember. I sprinted into the winding alleyways, losing myself in the labyrinth of the city. Hovercars honked when I scrambled in front of them, TeleMonitors bragged about the latest styles, and pedestrians offered me 'deals I could not refuse'. As if I had any money. I stuck out like a sore thumb. The style seemed to be sapphire jumpsuits, and I was wearing a gray jumper. People whispered when they saw me scurry by.

The CopperBot's siren wailed from right behind me. Adrenaline pounded in my ears and veins, urging me deeper into the maze of Downtown. Seeing a metal latter that hung from an abandoned building, I clambered up the metal rungs. I reached the roof, gasping for air as I ducked from view. The siren of the CopperBot wailed and screeched down the alleyway, down the street, and far away. I let out a shaky breath of relief. I was safe, for now. Closing my eyes, I tried to catch my breath.

"Hey, kid!" My eyes snapped open and stared straight into a pair of mismatched ones. A boy about my age stood before me, his midnight black hair sweeping into his peculiar eyes. One blue, one brown. He looked both annoyed and amused at the same time. My breath hitched in my throat and I froze against the roof wall. Still staring into my eyes, the boy said, "What do you think you're doing in my secret hideaway?”