Just in case you didn't know, I don't own any of the characters expressed
in this story, nor do I own the show in which they are portrayed. I would
be very happy if you all would review when you finished reading. I thank
you for your time.
The People behind the Masks
A story of the human side to "Batman and Robin"
It happened when I was 12 years old. My parents were murdered. A bloody mess lay at my feet. As I watched them being slaughtered, I kept thinking *I'm next. It'll all be over soon and I can be with them.* However, the man had something else in mind. Holding a recently orphaned child would spark a nationwide pity that would make him famous and rich, if his demands were met and he wasn't killed. His plan, as you could probably guess, was thwarted.
He came to me then. A man wearing a mask with bat ears. He also wore a black suit and a yellow belt lined with what seemed to be a vast array of gadgets and weapons. I could only see his lips and his eyes. They seemed to glimmer with the blackness of pain and understanding.
The murderer yelled obscenities and warnings at the man in black, but the man seemed unable to hear him. I closed my eyes and began to cry into my hands. I knew the man would be killed, just like my parents. He was no different. He may have had gadgets and a cool outfit, but he was only human. I heard a loud thump next to me. I cried harder, but silently as the noise would not come out to make the sound of my anguish and terror.
Pity filled my heart and I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see the face of the man in the black suit. A rush of relief ran through me like a waterfall, cascading swiftly over a cliff. "I thought."
"It's all right. We've got to leave before someone else comes along."
He lifted me off the pavement and that was the last time I ever saw my parents. My last vision of them as we turned the corner was two dead bodies; lifeless eyes staring at the sky as if they would be sucked up into it. I tried my hardest to stay awake so I could thank that man. I fell asleep in his arms. When I awoke, I was in an orphanage.
A man came in to adopt someone. He found the little girl he wanted and left, supposedly taking her home. I hoped she would have a happy life. I sat on my bed all day, watching maybe one more child disappear past the gates, hoping the man in black would come for me. Maybe he needed a little girl to wash his laundry or dishes or to clean his house. He never came.
The next day a man came by. They said his name was Bruce Wayne and that he was very well known. They also said he had already adopted a little boy. He looked very handsome and tall. *He didn't come to find me* I thought to myself. Yet, hope fluttered in my heart. This man wore a black suit as well, but it was a business suit.
I ran up to the room we slept in and sat on my bed, reading to myself aloud. Maybe if I seemed smarter, he would adopt me. I read as loud as I could, seeing as it was nowhere near naptime. The only person in bed was Anna, who was always in bed because she was disabled. She couldn't walk and the orphanage had no money to buy her a wheelchair.
"Sing for me, Sophia. Please?"
I stopped reading and began to sing for her. It was the least I could do, seeing as she was totally bedridden. I sang Lady, by the band Styx. She smiled. It was the first time I had seen her smile since I had arrived the day before. Everyone said they had never seen her smile and they had all been there longer than I.
When I finished singing, I heard a soft clapping sound behind me. My cheeks flushed a bright red and I turned quickly. I saw him standing there, smiling and clapping.
"What's your name, little lady?"
"Sophia Marie Davison. If I may be so bold as to ask your name."
"You may. My name is Bruce Wayne. I love your voice and your choice of songs. Would you like to take a little walk with me?"
".Okay."
He couldn't be a bad man. The orphanage didn't let bad men adopt children. I walked with him as we talked for a short while about my interest in music and books as well as his interests. I sat on a bench. He turned to face me, having to bend down on one knee to see eye-to-eye with me. I looked into his deep brown eyes as he looked into my bright blue ones. Did he want to ask me to come live with him? Could my instincts be right? I decided that it was the right time to be cute-to make him want me to come home with him.
"Why, Mister Wayne! Proposing already? During our first date? Isn't that a crazy thing to do? I guess we must."
He let out a low chuckle.
"Do you want to come live with Alfred, Dick, and I? We would love to have a little "singing jester" around the house. It would lighten our whole lives up."
I looked at his eyes again. Something familiar was drawing me to them. He tried to look away, but I put one hand on each cheek and just stared.
"It's you, isn't it? You're the one who saved me night before last, aren't you? I know your eyes. It has to be," I whispered into his face.
He winked. Tears filled my eyes and I hugged him. He picked me up and we went into the building.
"I'll take that as a yes."
We spent the rest of the afternoon signing paperwork. I gave a heartfelt wave to all the other children as we walked out the gate toward Mr. Wayne's limozene. An old man stood by the door waiting for us to get in. Mr. Wayne entered the vehicle, but I stopped in front of the elderly man.
"You must be Alfred. I am so very pleased to meet you. My name is Sophia Marie Davison. OOPS! I mean Sophia Marie Wayne."
I curtsied. He gave a little bow. We nodded to each other. He stared at me for a silent moment.
"I hate to be frank, young lady, but have we met before?"
"Maybe. I don't remember much about my parents' Christmas parties. Maybe you brought Mr. Wayne to one of them?"
"That must have been it. Thank you, little miss."
"That's not necessary, Alfred. Just call me Sophia."
"Yes, Miss Sophia."
"Alfred! Sophia is fine."
"Yes.Sophia."
"Thank you."
We left to loud singing from the children at the orphanage. As we passed the second gate, I heard the final verse of You Are My Sunshine. I felt as though I was abandoning a former life, just as I did only two days before, when mom and dad died. Of course if they were alive, they would never permit me to call them anything other than "mother" and "father".
It felt like I was floating. I just realized Mr. Wayne was talking to me when there was a screeching of the wheels on the car.
"What," I asked, just as Mr. Wayne pushed me to the floor.
"Someone was following us. Didn't you feel the bullet whiz by your ear?"
"No. I must've been daydreaming again. Are there a lot of people who want you dead, Mr. Wayne?"
"No one that I can think of. Unless they've figured out my secret like you have," he said, whispering the very last part so only I could hear.
"Let me guess," I whispered back, "Alfred doesn't know that I know yet?"
"Bingo."
A feeling of excitement coursed through my veins as I felt special. No one knew that I knew someone else's secret. Even the fact that I knew someone else's secret was enough. However, I couldn't help but feel that I was deceiving Alfred.
"Mr. Wayne, I think we should tell Alfred. It doesn't seem right that he doesn't know."
"If you want to tell him, you can. As a matter of fact, I think you should tell him. It would take great courage to admit to something like that, especially to a skeptical adult."
By then, the car that was following us had disappeared from view. I was afraid that Alfred might accidentally steer the car off the cliff if he had heard what I wanted to say, so I would wait until we had gotten to the house. We finally arrived, after a few more minutes of awkward silence. I think Mr. Wayne was just waiting for me to tell Alfred. I think he wanted to see the look on Alfred's face when I told him about the secret. Alfred got out of the driver's side when we were in the driveway at last and opened the door for us.
Mr. Wayne got out first, then helped me out. He said he had to go get Dick so we could meet. I looked directly into Alfred's eyes. I couldn't look at him, yet I couldn't look away.
"Do you have something to tell me, mi.Sophia?"
"Yes, Alfred. I do. I feel that I have been deceiving you by not telling you that I know Mr. Wayne's secret."
"What? What secret?"
"Don't play games, Alfred. I'm not a child. I know that he saved me that night. He was the one in the black suit."
"O-of course, S-Sophia. Shall I show you to your room?"
"Alfred, don't worry. I would die before I would tell anyone. Also, Mr. Wayne knows that I know."
"I see. Well, I am not so worried anymore. I would like you to know that I trust you as much as I do Dick."
I walked over to Alfred. I hugged him very gently. Mr. Wayne cleared his-
"Why do you call him Mr. Wayne? Why don't you call him Bruce ever?"
"I'm getting to that, Jareth. Be patient."
Mr. Wayne cleared his throat behind Alfred. Alfred set me on the ground softly, blushing slightly. I couldn't tell whether Mr. Wayne was trying to be angry at Alfred or whether he was happy that we had become friends on such short notice.
"I told him. He said he was glad and that he trusts me."
"Good. I hope he is happy. I am very glad that he trusts you as well."
A large smile spread the length of Mr. Wayne's face. A boy around my age came rushing from the house. He had a black box in his hand. He was very handsome. His light brown hair, his flashing eyes. He was almost like a statue; perfect in every way. He had muscles-not so many that they made him look grotesquely misshapen, but enough to make him look like he could beat someone up if they tried to mess with him. His face was a beautiful, like a painting. It all added together perfectly to make him the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.
He bowed. I placed my hand limply in the air in front of him. He plucked it from its invisible resting place and kissed it gently. I could feel the heat rising up in my cheeks. He looked up and saw me blushing. He looked past that to my eyes where he, too found something that made his face red. He handed me the box. I opened it slowly.
The necklace was 14karat gold. It said my name in cursive. In the now setting sun, it glittered like a jewel. He grabbed it from the box, undid the clasp that held it closed, then pulled it gently over my head. It fit my neck size perfectly. He did the snap up then kissed me gently on the cheek before walking around to my front side to face me. He pulled my hair out from under the gold chain.
We were both still blushing. We just stood there, staring. Mr. Wayne broke it up finally. The sun was nearly completely set by the time we had gone in. Alfred had made dinner. It was a kind of French delicacy-Fried Frog Legs. I made it look like I had enjoyed the meal.
"So, how did you become so learned, Sophia? You don't sound like a normal 12 year old."
"Well, Mr. Wayne, I-"
"-Call me Bruce, please."
"I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"My mother and father said to call an adult by their real name should be a crime, punishable by execution."
There was an awkward silence. Mr. Wayne and Dick both just stared at me. Even Alfred walked out from the kitchen to just stare.
"-Well, that and it is very disrespectful."
"Did your parents love you, Sophia," asked Dick.
"I imagine so. However, when I disobeyed them, they would lock me in the closet for three hours. Doesn't everyone's parent do that at least once?"
Mr. Wayne, Dick, and Alfred all shook their heads, still staring, eyes wide with amazement. It was as if they were just waiting for me to keel over any second.
"WHAT?!"
Mr. Wayne asked, as controlled as he could manage, without bursting out in a fit of rage, "Your parents did that and you say they loved you?! What kind of parent does that to their child? How old were you-the first time you can remember them putting you in the closet?"
I thought really hard. The very first time I could remember.
"I was three."
A loud gasp sounded through the room as though a poison vent had just been opened and they had all taken their last breath.
"It sounds as though your parents were slightly abusive," Dick said softly.
A red hot coal burned in my chest. My face felt like it was on fire. It felt like I had scrunched my nose up so much that it might've just disappeared. My vision became blurred. I felt cold water running over my face, probably tears, but I couldn't see them or feel them anymore.
"Don't talk about my parents like that! They weren't abusive, they were just very strict!"
The silence surrounded me. It was like the black of that night that my parents were attacked in the alleyway. A man held them at gunpoint. My father gave them his wallet. He begged that they let me and my mother go. One of them grabbed my arm and though I fought them, it didn't stop them from taking my mother's innocence by beating her and raping her, then shooting her. My father was forced to watch as well, being held by three men. I ran from the dining room and found the closest room to me, which seemed to be set up for me.
Sheets that said my name. I ran over to the bed and jumped on it, immediately stuffing my tear-drenched face into my pillow. Sadness overwhelmed me, but I was no longer angry. I just cried. Every once in a while, I would gasp for air, making a small, squeaking sound. The door opened and I shoved my face farther into my pillow. A hand on my back told me it was Mr. Wayne.
"I want to say I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for talking about your parents as if you weren't there. It was rude of us. It was rude of me."
I took my face out of my pillow and shoved it into Mr. Wayne's suit. I continued to cry, leaving even darker black marks on his black coat. He cradled me like a baby in his arms. I finally stopped crying. It was now about nine o'clock at night. I looked up to see traces of tears on Mr. Wayne's face. I noticed he had fallen asleep. I got up, making sure not to awaken him. I opened the door and slowly crept out, making sure not to let too much light in.
I stepped out into the hallway and saw Alfred coming to my room to bring me some water. When he got to me, he handed me the water and patted me on the head. As if he had read my mind, he beckoned me to follow him. I did and found my way to Dick's room at Alfred's back. I opened the door as quietly as I could. Dick was sitting on the edge of his bed, crying, with a picture from a newspaper in his hand. I could already read it from the door. I had read it before.
The Grayson Tragedy
The two performers fell to their deaths at this evening's show at the
Circus. Their only son survived them. At the tender age of 13, he was
deprived of a life that could have been. It's surprising it held him up even. We had heard that the rope seemed to have been partially cut through
with a knife. We heard he was living with the generous and rich Bruce
Wayne, whose name has spread nationwide.
I walked into the room, still silent. He didn't really notice me. I walked to the opposite side of the bed and jumped up. Dick leapt, startled, from the bed. He immediately wiped the tears from his face. He became angered at the sight of me.
"Why didn't you knock?!"
I slipped from the bed and walked over to him. I looked deep into his eyes. The anger melted from his face. I placed my hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes, surrendering to my effort to make him feel better.
"I've read that article before."
I hugged him. I kissed him on the cheek as he cried just a little more.
"Don't hide your feelings from me, Dick Grayson. I just want to help you. I know it wasn't just an accident. My parents were killed by the same man as your parents. I hoped he would kill me, but Br-Batman saved me."
"You know his secret, don't you?"
".Yes."
"I knew it. I knew it all along. I think we would all feel more comfortable if you would just use his real name."
"You know, you were right. Down in the dining room. Thank you for bringing that to my attention."
Dick looked down at the floor over my shoulder in disgust. "I was so tactless. I should have kept it to myself."
"No. I needed to hear it. It's all true," I said. "Do you know what I first thought, reading the article about you and your parents," I tried to change the subject. Luckily, he looked like he wanted to talk about other matters as well.
"No, what? You felt sorry for me? You wanted to give me money?" He grimaced.
"Of course I would have if I could've met you, but that's not what I thought. I thought, 'I want to meet him so I can give him a big hug and make him feel better.'"
"Oh. Too bad you couldn't have met me back then. I could've used a hug."
"Doesn't this one help at all?"
"Well, yeah. I would've liked-"
"-to have had one back then, I know. We can't always get what we want when we want it, though."
Dick wiped his eyes as he stepped away from me. I walked over to his bed and sat down as realization dawned on his face.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"You told me what I didn't want to hear but I needed to."
He walked over to the foot of the bed where I was sitting and joined me. He looked at me. I was staring at the ground. I knew I couldn't avoid his gaze forever. The next thing I knew I was staring right back at him. He reached out and grabbed my hand. The next moment happened in a flash. Our eyes were closed, our lips puckered and we had kissed. We were both blushing.
Mr. Wayne walked in and Dick dropped my hand. We all smiled at each other.
"May I speak to you in private, Sophia?"
"Of course, Mr.-I mean Bruce."
Both of them seemed surprised at this turn of events. Nevertheless, we walked out of the room. We walked back down the hall toward my bedroom. Bruce shut the door behind himself.
"Dick and I have to go out for a while."
"Without me?"
"Yes. I'm so sorry you cannot come. You are welcome to do whatever you want until we get back. Alfred will drive you anywhere that you may want to go. We have video games down in the living room."
"Can't I save people? Can't I come save a little girl or boy with you?"
I was amazed at how childish I sounded. I sat on my bed. I didn't want him to go without me. Not because I didn't want to be alone. Not because I was jealous. I was worried about him and Dick. What would I do if they got hurt or died?
you for your time.
The People behind the Masks
A story of the human side to "Batman and Robin"
It happened when I was 12 years old. My parents were murdered. A bloody mess lay at my feet. As I watched them being slaughtered, I kept thinking *I'm next. It'll all be over soon and I can be with them.* However, the man had something else in mind. Holding a recently orphaned child would spark a nationwide pity that would make him famous and rich, if his demands were met and he wasn't killed. His plan, as you could probably guess, was thwarted.
He came to me then. A man wearing a mask with bat ears. He also wore a black suit and a yellow belt lined with what seemed to be a vast array of gadgets and weapons. I could only see his lips and his eyes. They seemed to glimmer with the blackness of pain and understanding.
The murderer yelled obscenities and warnings at the man in black, but the man seemed unable to hear him. I closed my eyes and began to cry into my hands. I knew the man would be killed, just like my parents. He was no different. He may have had gadgets and a cool outfit, but he was only human. I heard a loud thump next to me. I cried harder, but silently as the noise would not come out to make the sound of my anguish and terror.
Pity filled my heart and I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see the face of the man in the black suit. A rush of relief ran through me like a waterfall, cascading swiftly over a cliff. "I thought."
"It's all right. We've got to leave before someone else comes along."
He lifted me off the pavement and that was the last time I ever saw my parents. My last vision of them as we turned the corner was two dead bodies; lifeless eyes staring at the sky as if they would be sucked up into it. I tried my hardest to stay awake so I could thank that man. I fell asleep in his arms. When I awoke, I was in an orphanage.
A man came in to adopt someone. He found the little girl he wanted and left, supposedly taking her home. I hoped she would have a happy life. I sat on my bed all day, watching maybe one more child disappear past the gates, hoping the man in black would come for me. Maybe he needed a little girl to wash his laundry or dishes or to clean his house. He never came.
The next day a man came by. They said his name was Bruce Wayne and that he was very well known. They also said he had already adopted a little boy. He looked very handsome and tall. *He didn't come to find me* I thought to myself. Yet, hope fluttered in my heart. This man wore a black suit as well, but it was a business suit.
I ran up to the room we slept in and sat on my bed, reading to myself aloud. Maybe if I seemed smarter, he would adopt me. I read as loud as I could, seeing as it was nowhere near naptime. The only person in bed was Anna, who was always in bed because she was disabled. She couldn't walk and the orphanage had no money to buy her a wheelchair.
"Sing for me, Sophia. Please?"
I stopped reading and began to sing for her. It was the least I could do, seeing as she was totally bedridden. I sang Lady, by the band Styx. She smiled. It was the first time I had seen her smile since I had arrived the day before. Everyone said they had never seen her smile and they had all been there longer than I.
When I finished singing, I heard a soft clapping sound behind me. My cheeks flushed a bright red and I turned quickly. I saw him standing there, smiling and clapping.
"What's your name, little lady?"
"Sophia Marie Davison. If I may be so bold as to ask your name."
"You may. My name is Bruce Wayne. I love your voice and your choice of songs. Would you like to take a little walk with me?"
".Okay."
He couldn't be a bad man. The orphanage didn't let bad men adopt children. I walked with him as we talked for a short while about my interest in music and books as well as his interests. I sat on a bench. He turned to face me, having to bend down on one knee to see eye-to-eye with me. I looked into his deep brown eyes as he looked into my bright blue ones. Did he want to ask me to come live with him? Could my instincts be right? I decided that it was the right time to be cute-to make him want me to come home with him.
"Why, Mister Wayne! Proposing already? During our first date? Isn't that a crazy thing to do? I guess we must."
He let out a low chuckle.
"Do you want to come live with Alfred, Dick, and I? We would love to have a little "singing jester" around the house. It would lighten our whole lives up."
I looked at his eyes again. Something familiar was drawing me to them. He tried to look away, but I put one hand on each cheek and just stared.
"It's you, isn't it? You're the one who saved me night before last, aren't you? I know your eyes. It has to be," I whispered into his face.
He winked. Tears filled my eyes and I hugged him. He picked me up and we went into the building.
"I'll take that as a yes."
We spent the rest of the afternoon signing paperwork. I gave a heartfelt wave to all the other children as we walked out the gate toward Mr. Wayne's limozene. An old man stood by the door waiting for us to get in. Mr. Wayne entered the vehicle, but I stopped in front of the elderly man.
"You must be Alfred. I am so very pleased to meet you. My name is Sophia Marie Davison. OOPS! I mean Sophia Marie Wayne."
I curtsied. He gave a little bow. We nodded to each other. He stared at me for a silent moment.
"I hate to be frank, young lady, but have we met before?"
"Maybe. I don't remember much about my parents' Christmas parties. Maybe you brought Mr. Wayne to one of them?"
"That must have been it. Thank you, little miss."
"That's not necessary, Alfred. Just call me Sophia."
"Yes, Miss Sophia."
"Alfred! Sophia is fine."
"Yes.Sophia."
"Thank you."
We left to loud singing from the children at the orphanage. As we passed the second gate, I heard the final verse of You Are My Sunshine. I felt as though I was abandoning a former life, just as I did only two days before, when mom and dad died. Of course if they were alive, they would never permit me to call them anything other than "mother" and "father".
It felt like I was floating. I just realized Mr. Wayne was talking to me when there was a screeching of the wheels on the car.
"What," I asked, just as Mr. Wayne pushed me to the floor.
"Someone was following us. Didn't you feel the bullet whiz by your ear?"
"No. I must've been daydreaming again. Are there a lot of people who want you dead, Mr. Wayne?"
"No one that I can think of. Unless they've figured out my secret like you have," he said, whispering the very last part so only I could hear.
"Let me guess," I whispered back, "Alfred doesn't know that I know yet?"
"Bingo."
A feeling of excitement coursed through my veins as I felt special. No one knew that I knew someone else's secret. Even the fact that I knew someone else's secret was enough. However, I couldn't help but feel that I was deceiving Alfred.
"Mr. Wayne, I think we should tell Alfred. It doesn't seem right that he doesn't know."
"If you want to tell him, you can. As a matter of fact, I think you should tell him. It would take great courage to admit to something like that, especially to a skeptical adult."
By then, the car that was following us had disappeared from view. I was afraid that Alfred might accidentally steer the car off the cliff if he had heard what I wanted to say, so I would wait until we had gotten to the house. We finally arrived, after a few more minutes of awkward silence. I think Mr. Wayne was just waiting for me to tell Alfred. I think he wanted to see the look on Alfred's face when I told him about the secret. Alfred got out of the driver's side when we were in the driveway at last and opened the door for us.
Mr. Wayne got out first, then helped me out. He said he had to go get Dick so we could meet. I looked directly into Alfred's eyes. I couldn't look at him, yet I couldn't look away.
"Do you have something to tell me, mi.Sophia?"
"Yes, Alfred. I do. I feel that I have been deceiving you by not telling you that I know Mr. Wayne's secret."
"What? What secret?"
"Don't play games, Alfred. I'm not a child. I know that he saved me that night. He was the one in the black suit."
"O-of course, S-Sophia. Shall I show you to your room?"
"Alfred, don't worry. I would die before I would tell anyone. Also, Mr. Wayne knows that I know."
"I see. Well, I am not so worried anymore. I would like you to know that I trust you as much as I do Dick."
I walked over to Alfred. I hugged him very gently. Mr. Wayne cleared his-
"Why do you call him Mr. Wayne? Why don't you call him Bruce ever?"
"I'm getting to that, Jareth. Be patient."
Mr. Wayne cleared his throat behind Alfred. Alfred set me on the ground softly, blushing slightly. I couldn't tell whether Mr. Wayne was trying to be angry at Alfred or whether he was happy that we had become friends on such short notice.
"I told him. He said he was glad and that he trusts me."
"Good. I hope he is happy. I am very glad that he trusts you as well."
A large smile spread the length of Mr. Wayne's face. A boy around my age came rushing from the house. He had a black box in his hand. He was very handsome. His light brown hair, his flashing eyes. He was almost like a statue; perfect in every way. He had muscles-not so many that they made him look grotesquely misshapen, but enough to make him look like he could beat someone up if they tried to mess with him. His face was a beautiful, like a painting. It all added together perfectly to make him the most beautiful boy I had ever seen.
He bowed. I placed my hand limply in the air in front of him. He plucked it from its invisible resting place and kissed it gently. I could feel the heat rising up in my cheeks. He looked up and saw me blushing. He looked past that to my eyes where he, too found something that made his face red. He handed me the box. I opened it slowly.
The necklace was 14karat gold. It said my name in cursive. In the now setting sun, it glittered like a jewel. He grabbed it from the box, undid the clasp that held it closed, then pulled it gently over my head. It fit my neck size perfectly. He did the snap up then kissed me gently on the cheek before walking around to my front side to face me. He pulled my hair out from under the gold chain.
We were both still blushing. We just stood there, staring. Mr. Wayne broke it up finally. The sun was nearly completely set by the time we had gone in. Alfred had made dinner. It was a kind of French delicacy-Fried Frog Legs. I made it look like I had enjoyed the meal.
"So, how did you become so learned, Sophia? You don't sound like a normal 12 year old."
"Well, Mr. Wayne, I-"
"-Call me Bruce, please."
"I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"My mother and father said to call an adult by their real name should be a crime, punishable by execution."
There was an awkward silence. Mr. Wayne and Dick both just stared at me. Even Alfred walked out from the kitchen to just stare.
"-Well, that and it is very disrespectful."
"Did your parents love you, Sophia," asked Dick.
"I imagine so. However, when I disobeyed them, they would lock me in the closet for three hours. Doesn't everyone's parent do that at least once?"
Mr. Wayne, Dick, and Alfred all shook their heads, still staring, eyes wide with amazement. It was as if they were just waiting for me to keel over any second.
"WHAT?!"
Mr. Wayne asked, as controlled as he could manage, without bursting out in a fit of rage, "Your parents did that and you say they loved you?! What kind of parent does that to their child? How old were you-the first time you can remember them putting you in the closet?"
I thought really hard. The very first time I could remember.
"I was three."
A loud gasp sounded through the room as though a poison vent had just been opened and they had all taken their last breath.
"It sounds as though your parents were slightly abusive," Dick said softly.
A red hot coal burned in my chest. My face felt like it was on fire. It felt like I had scrunched my nose up so much that it might've just disappeared. My vision became blurred. I felt cold water running over my face, probably tears, but I couldn't see them or feel them anymore.
"Don't talk about my parents like that! They weren't abusive, they were just very strict!"
The silence surrounded me. It was like the black of that night that my parents were attacked in the alleyway. A man held them at gunpoint. My father gave them his wallet. He begged that they let me and my mother go. One of them grabbed my arm and though I fought them, it didn't stop them from taking my mother's innocence by beating her and raping her, then shooting her. My father was forced to watch as well, being held by three men. I ran from the dining room and found the closest room to me, which seemed to be set up for me.
Sheets that said my name. I ran over to the bed and jumped on it, immediately stuffing my tear-drenched face into my pillow. Sadness overwhelmed me, but I was no longer angry. I just cried. Every once in a while, I would gasp for air, making a small, squeaking sound. The door opened and I shoved my face farther into my pillow. A hand on my back told me it was Mr. Wayne.
"I want to say I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for talking about your parents as if you weren't there. It was rude of us. It was rude of me."
I took my face out of my pillow and shoved it into Mr. Wayne's suit. I continued to cry, leaving even darker black marks on his black coat. He cradled me like a baby in his arms. I finally stopped crying. It was now about nine o'clock at night. I looked up to see traces of tears on Mr. Wayne's face. I noticed he had fallen asleep. I got up, making sure not to awaken him. I opened the door and slowly crept out, making sure not to let too much light in.
I stepped out into the hallway and saw Alfred coming to my room to bring me some water. When he got to me, he handed me the water and patted me on the head. As if he had read my mind, he beckoned me to follow him. I did and found my way to Dick's room at Alfred's back. I opened the door as quietly as I could. Dick was sitting on the edge of his bed, crying, with a picture from a newspaper in his hand. I could already read it from the door. I had read it before.
The Grayson Tragedy
The two performers fell to their deaths at this evening's show at the
Circus. Their only son survived them. At the tender age of 13, he was
deprived of a life that could have been. It's surprising it held him up even. We had heard that the rope seemed to have been partially cut through
with a knife. We heard he was living with the generous and rich Bruce
Wayne, whose name has spread nationwide.
I walked into the room, still silent. He didn't really notice me. I walked to the opposite side of the bed and jumped up. Dick leapt, startled, from the bed. He immediately wiped the tears from his face. He became angered at the sight of me.
"Why didn't you knock?!"
I slipped from the bed and walked over to him. I looked deep into his eyes. The anger melted from his face. I placed my hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes, surrendering to my effort to make him feel better.
"I've read that article before."
I hugged him. I kissed him on the cheek as he cried just a little more.
"Don't hide your feelings from me, Dick Grayson. I just want to help you. I know it wasn't just an accident. My parents were killed by the same man as your parents. I hoped he would kill me, but Br-Batman saved me."
"You know his secret, don't you?"
".Yes."
"I knew it. I knew it all along. I think we would all feel more comfortable if you would just use his real name."
"You know, you were right. Down in the dining room. Thank you for bringing that to my attention."
Dick looked down at the floor over my shoulder in disgust. "I was so tactless. I should have kept it to myself."
"No. I needed to hear it. It's all true," I said. "Do you know what I first thought, reading the article about you and your parents," I tried to change the subject. Luckily, he looked like he wanted to talk about other matters as well.
"No, what? You felt sorry for me? You wanted to give me money?" He grimaced.
"Of course I would have if I could've met you, but that's not what I thought. I thought, 'I want to meet him so I can give him a big hug and make him feel better.'"
"Oh. Too bad you couldn't have met me back then. I could've used a hug."
"Doesn't this one help at all?"
"Well, yeah. I would've liked-"
"-to have had one back then, I know. We can't always get what we want when we want it, though."
Dick wiped his eyes as he stepped away from me. I walked over to his bed and sat down as realization dawned on his face.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"You told me what I didn't want to hear but I needed to."
He walked over to the foot of the bed where I was sitting and joined me. He looked at me. I was staring at the ground. I knew I couldn't avoid his gaze forever. The next thing I knew I was staring right back at him. He reached out and grabbed my hand. The next moment happened in a flash. Our eyes were closed, our lips puckered and we had kissed. We were both blushing.
Mr. Wayne walked in and Dick dropped my hand. We all smiled at each other.
"May I speak to you in private, Sophia?"
"Of course, Mr.-I mean Bruce."
Both of them seemed surprised at this turn of events. Nevertheless, we walked out of the room. We walked back down the hall toward my bedroom. Bruce shut the door behind himself.
"Dick and I have to go out for a while."
"Without me?"
"Yes. I'm so sorry you cannot come. You are welcome to do whatever you want until we get back. Alfred will drive you anywhere that you may want to go. We have video games down in the living room."
"Can't I save people? Can't I come save a little girl or boy with you?"
I was amazed at how childish I sounded. I sat on my bed. I didn't want him to go without me. Not because I didn't want to be alone. Not because I was jealous. I was worried about him and Dick. What would I do if they got hurt or died?