Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock.


Her feathered fist punched out the last of the mirrors. A tear fell along with every sliver of glass. She kicked the shards under the sofa.

She hated mirrors for the simple reason of hating her own imperfections. It pained her to stare at her own reflection, to be reminded of what that gas did to her face.

"I used to be so beautiful," she said to herself.

The flames flickered in the corner fireplace. She grabbed her white jacket and sat down in front of the warmth. The radio on the other side of the room, one of her few remaining possessions, spilled recent hits from the speakers.

Cinders from the fire spat out at her deformed feet.

She recently found in her pocket a hand-woven bracelet made of black, plastic wire. In the center of the bracelet sat four white, square beads with black letters that read: TESS.

She tossed the rubbish in the fireplace and watched it burn with anguish in her heart.

The brick oven in front of her erased evidence of her memories one day at a time. Since the meta-breed chose the current location for their hideout she found problems coping. Just last week she ripped and burned the picture of her and her ex-boyfriend. It caused too much pain for her to stare at the photograph of the smiling couple. Each day she would feed the flames another photograph or item that reminded her of her past.

No amount of pills or alcohol could rid her mind of the night after the Big Bang. Nor could she forget the days before the accident, the time when she was a simple, innocent teenager without a criminal record.