The cold wind blew on her like the icy breath of the man that haunted her every thought. Go, go Artemis. You can't stay here. No one will save you. Save yourself Artemis. ARTEMIS! She held her head in her hands. Cold, alone, and desperate she lays in that warehouse; hoping for somebody, anybody, she lays there. Her thoughts seem to impale her; she's made herself sick to the stomach. Please, somebody help me.
Whoosh.
Something flew past her. What was it?
Clop
What was that?!
Rollllllll…..
Suddenly a marble rolled towards her. Look at all the colors; her big doe eyes widened. Ah, the innocence of childhood. That poor child, so easily distractible, her long, tangled blonde hair in a huge mop on the floor, what child is so neglected to be out at this hour? She's more aware than your average child. She pays attention. Why is she here?
Click, click, click, click…..
Footsteps, but who's? Guard up. The child suddenly tensed up. "Who-who's there?" Her voice shaky, "Sh-show yourself, coward"
A slow clap filled the room.
"That's my girl, never back down to the enemy. Goddamn, you are a hard little girl to find."
"D-Daddy no!"
The girl mustered up all of her strength, or what she had left of it, and ran. When she ran, she ran so fast, as fast as her little legs would go. Runrunrun. She didn't know how long she had been running or even how fast, but she knew she wouldn't be running much longer.
BAM
She fell. She collapsed to the hard concrete flooring of whatever building she'd run into, she had no idea where she was, far from her home in Gotham she was sure. Far, far away. She had been on the run for three months. Three months of pure torture, not a moment had she felt safe. Though, not one single moment of her journey had she wanted to go home. Home. Psh, if you could even call it that.
Home is supposed to be where people love you and care about you. Home is supposed to be where you feel safe. Home is supposed to be where you can go if your life is spiraling downward. Home is not, and should not be the reason for your downward spiral. What this little girl had was not a home, but a prison. No, not a prison, prison would have been better. At least you get fed in prison. At least you can sleep in prison. Though, there is the same fear of abuse… rape… trauma. There is still danger. There is still the warden you must obey and report to for fear of unjust treatment. Not only would it be prison but being in prison as a girl. To be seen as frail and weak. To be seen unworthy of making decisions for one's self due to pure biology. The world is a cruel place. The cruelty of real life should not be exposed to those still young and innocent but what we have here is a case of distress. This little girl, she is not but five has been fending for herself since day one. It's a doggie dog world, she whispers to herself, though she obviously doesn't understand the meaning of the phrase, considering she cannot say it right.
Poor, ignorant child, though she is not oblivious. This girl knows more about suffering than most adults, and she has been alive but five years, has only been able to talk for three. Three. Three years talking and understanding. Coincidentally, three months of understanding that she needs to stay away from her so-called 'home' if she wants to live.
Whoosh
There's that thing again. But what could it be?
"Hey, kid"
A childlike voice spoke out. It was young, but not younger than she. A short (though the girl has not any room to speak) red-headed scout-like boy walks up to her trembling body. "Are you okay?" The boy's face softens as he seems genuinely concerned for her being. Well this is new.
Her small frame shook as his voice echoes in the abandoned parking deck she has found. "Hey, it's okay. I won't hurt you. My name is Wally, yours?"
Do I tell him? Oh god what to I say? Who is he? Wait, why is HE here? We're in the middle of nowhere. Oh gosh I'm taking forever. He's going to hit me if I don't speak up soon oh geez.
As she thinks rapidly on what to do the boy sits crisscross, realizing that this may take a while.