The Butler drove me to the mansion with the windows rolled up. It was thirty-five degrees in Gotham. The streets were quiet and the lights from the city shined through the foggy windows. I was wearing a small hoodie. It didn't protect much from the cold, but it was all I had to remember from my once happy life.
Welcome to Gotham city, The city of crime and psychos with its only savior being a loon who dresses like a bat. My mom tried to leave this place, but you can take the baby out of Gotham, but you can't get the Gotham out the baby. After Fourteen years of hiding me from this place, it was for think I wanted to live here so much as a kid. I heard they had clowns. I loved clowns. My mom hated them, so every day I would sit and wonder about what crazy thing was happening in Gotham. Now, that I'm here all I want to do is go home. Go back to my mom. "Ms. Page," the Butler said to me as he opened the door. "Master Wayne is waiting," the Butler was tall with salt and pepper old man hair and a small french guy mustache. It was a twinge of fear in my chest as I stepped out of the car and looked up at the building.
"come along," He states, staring forward as he walks to the door. I nod following after him "yes sir," He chuckles insisting "You do not have to be so polite." Looking away muttering under my breath I say again "yes sir". He shook his head hearing that, I wanted to at least ask him some questions but this was fucking scary.
The Butler opened the door. We walked through a small hallway that leads to a room with two large sets of stairs, I walked over to them. Built out of somewhat shiny wood I found myself wanting to slide down the railing. "It's solid oak." A voice came from the top of the stairs, I glance up them to see a man smiling as he walks down. He was tall with sharp gray eyes, despite the smile on his face, it felt kind of off. Like someone smiling to hide something, I couldn't put my finger on.
He came to a full stop as he reached the end of the stairs "Hello, you must be Lilly Page, I am Bruce Wayne." he puts his hand out and I do the same shaking his hand. Unable to put my curiosity at bay I ask "How do you know my mom?" He stares at me for a bit before turning his head slightly embarrassed. "we are old friends" I cock my head to the side looking at him. "she never mentioned you"
He looks at me in the eyes with a serious expression before starting to smile again. "yeah, that happens a lot with my Ex's, but when I heard what happened to her I couldn't just leave you." he stops smiling "I know how it is to lose parents." I look down ashamed at how rude I was, My mom always told me I was too curious for my own good. I am not completely sure if everything he told me is the truth. My mom didn't tell me a lot of things, but if she once dated a billionaire it would have come up at least once. With that said I can tell that one thing he said was true. He knows how it feels to lose your parents. Eyes planted on the floor, I spoke again, this time in a hesitant tone, "I understand, thank you."'
He breathed a sigh of relief "No need to thank me, I did this because I wanted to." Alfred started to walk forward, "come along." I followed him looking at the halls. There were vases, paints, and pictures, one, in particular, grabbed my attention. It was Bruce, Alfred and three other boys. I stopped looking at it, Alfred would soon notice this and stand beside me. I looked over to him and spoke in a uncertain tone "Are those his sons?" He gives a gentle smile looking at the portrait. "Master Wayne has a habit of taking in young men in a similar situation to your own." He started to walk away after saying that "Master Dick is now on his own. You may see him tomorrow if his track record for the last week says anything." He opens the door to my new room "You may see Master Damien as well but at the moment he is... visiting with friends." I walk into my room taking a moment to look around. It was bigger than my old room with hard wood floors and a small full sized bed. "I will be going now," Alfred gives a small bow closing the door. I laid on the bed looking up at the ceiling "This… is different." I murmur to myself trying to collect my thoughts. "Is this some kind of bad dream?" closing my eyes, I could see mom's face, what did I do? Why is it that all I can remember is laughter? It doesn't matter, either way. She's gone. Reflecting on the past and finding a way to place blame will not help me. I just need to let it go, but I can't I miss her.