LAST CHAPPIE! sob I miss you already! But I'll write more. And if anyone doesn't like this ending, too bad! But still review! Short and angsty, and a bit sad:(

dorkyduck: This is the last chappie, and it’s short. Sorry! But it’s fully Ashley, so please forgive me! Review!!

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A few months later:

I heard about Camp Greenlake. One of the guys in jail got a paper. It was a week old when we got it, but it’s still nice to know what’s going on in the outside world. Apparently there was some kind of fraud there, and its shut down. The guys were released for time served. Apparently, Zero and Caveman are now millionaires. Lucky bastards. The thing that really pissed me off was that it could have been me. If I'd hung on for a few more months in that dump, I could have been back home, with Stephanie.

But no, the phonecall had to come through to Mr Sir and instead of getting to go home, I get sent to juvie, where there’s a fight every day, and guys slash your face in the showers. I’d always tried to forget the face slashing in the other juvies. But its kind of hard to forget when there’s dried blood on your face, stinging every time you move your face. Last night, they slashed me so close to my eye, I was almost blinded. It was the worst feeling in the world, standing there, blood running into your eyes, tasting the coppery taste of my own blood. I didn’t know whether the pain or the humiliation hurt more.

No, there was a worse feeling. I got a letter yesterday.

Stephanie had her baby, and it was a girl. She called it Ashley. Stupid bitch! They did a DNA test too. Turns out it wasn’t my baby. I was right, it was that bastard Ryan’s Turriff’s kid. But I didn’t care anymore. I had bigger problems.

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My life was getting better until my sister died. Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. She was my whole point of living. When they took her away, I was devastated. I only ever got to see her once a month or so. But I lived for that once a month. Even Stephanie took second place to Jackie.

Then, one day my dad got really, really pissed. He turned up at Jackie’s foster home in the middle of the night and forced her into his car. The cops said he was going at over a hundred miles an hour down the motorway. A lorry hit them side on. They said she died immediately. My dad broke a rib. That was it. He took her life away from her. He took my life away from me and all he got was a fucking broken rib!

I had to get back at him. That guy had stolen my childhood. He had killed my little sister. He had hit me, stabbed me and ultimately ruined my life. It was my turn to get back at him.

I knew where he lived. Duh, I had lived there for twelve years! I went to his house in the middle of the night. I knew he’d be lying drunk by then. I went into his room and dragged him out into his car. I drove him out to an estate building and dragged him in. he was waking up by then, but he was still pissed and didn’t really know what was going on. So I got a knife I’d nicked andI stabbed him over and over again. My hand were covered with his warm blood. i felt sick, but I couldn't stop. I was blinded by white hot rage. And then, when the blood was too much, I threw the knife away and started kicking him and punching him until he was just a mess of cuts and bruises. Then I got a can of petrol from the car and doused the whole building in it. I went back to the room my dad was in and looked at him one last time. He was barely recognisable. He was bruised and cut and bleeding, just lying there in a pool of his own blood. It should have been horrible, seeing my own father bleeding to death but, to be honest, I never felt so happy.

Then I struck a match, chucked it in and left. The bastard didn’t die in the fire, but he went into a coma. They knew it was me, but there was no proof. The only thing they could get me for was nicking his car. The car that killed my sister. Ironic, huh?

I felt safe in Camp Greenlake. The guys there were too naive to ever hurt me, and nobody could come after me after there. Then Mr Sir got the phonecall. And I got sent to jail.

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So here I am, sitting on my hard bed in jail, my knuckles red and bleeding and my nose broken from a fight I got into. I’m sixteen, and I’ve had the worst life ever.

By the time I was twelve, my dad had driven a knife three inches into my thigh.

My mum had forced a needle loaded with crack into my arm.

My dad had beat me mercilessly.

I’d been kicked out of two schools for never turning up.

I’d had to steal, sell drugs and fight to afford to feed my little sister.

Yeah you’ve heard it before. But my life’s fucked up. Why should I not be able to tell people about it?

By the time I was fifteen, I had stolen anything I could.

I had beaten people up for kicks.

I had got myself hooked on crack.

I had sold drugs.

I had set fire to someone’s house – while they were still in it.

I had stolen fifteen cars.

I had been arrested 17 times.

I had been sent to juvie three times.

I had slept on the streets.

Yeah. I get it. I’m a whiner. But I don’t care. It gets worse. In fact, it couldn't get worse.

By the time I was seventeen, my sister was murdered.

My girlfriend had got pregnant by my best friend.

My mum had died of an overdose.

I had been sent to Camp Greenlake and met the weirdest, most naïve bunch of amateurs ever. And still thought they were ace, though I wouldn’t tell them that.

I had beat up my dad until he was in a critical coma.

On my seventeenth birthday, the phonecall came.

By the time I was eighteen, I had killed a man.

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And that’s the end. Short chappie, I know, and a sad ending. But Ashley was never going to get a happy ending. Please review, and review all my new fics! One should be appearing soon! I’ll miss you, dear reviewers. And I’m dedicating this chappie to you all, especially Juicy Fruit Girl and dorkyduck. Goodbye!

JAR