Dick's POV:
Before I even begin to bore you with my story, I have to warn you that it's pretty sad. My life isn't a faerietale, but even if it was, it wouldn't be much different. I'm kind of like Cinderella with how my story goes. In the beginning, she had a loving family, but after her mom died, life just started going downhill. When she met the Prince, her life got better and her story ended happily. My story hasn't ended quite yet, but when it does, I hope I get to say "Happily Ever After" in my final dying breath as my book falls shut for the final time to be put away on the bookshelves and to be forgotten about as time goes on.
Even if my parents were still around, chances are that they wouldn't remember where I was born. Before I was even a thought, my mom and dad were in Haley's Circus as faithful acrobats, going city-to-city without ever keeping a permanent resident. With my luck, I was probably born in our trailer or maybe I was born in the circus tent where my true heart still lies.
Having me wasn't anything big to my parents. They put the circus above me any day so my big brother Matt had to always watch me while they performed as the Flying Graysons, wowing crowds. The second I could walk, they didn't stop to cheer me on. Instead, they slapped a trapeze bar in my hands and pushed me off the tower towards the net. I caught on fast and I fell for the circus as one falls for someone they simply can't be without.
The day Matt was old enough to leave us, he did. I remember him coming to me that night and pulling me close, pressing a kiss to my forehead and whispering a goodbye before he left me. I haven't heard a word of him since so I can only assume he died or he just stopped caring. I can't really blame him though. I was just as eager to leave and take my life somewhere else. I wanted to be a detective or a police man, not a circus star. It was nice, but I felt I deserved more.
When I was nine, a man named Tony Zucco brought his mob to Haley's Circus, demanding extortion money. The circus refused. As expected, Zucco wasn't pleased with the answer. On the night of our biggest act, he removed the screws to the trapeze set. Being the blissfully ignorant idiots we were back then, we didn't check the trapeze to make sure we'd be safe and we picked that night to not use a net.
My parents were swinging through the air of the circus tent before I saw the screws were missing. I never even got a chance to say goodbye. They just… dropped. Their bodies struck the earth with such a force that they died upon contact, selfishly abandoning me up on that tower to sob my heart out until the ring leader and the elephant rider came up and carried me down carefully.
At their funeral, I was positive that life was over for me. I was just waiting for someone to come up and kill me to stop me from doing it myself. I had no one and nothing left for me on the earth and I figured that sense I was unneeded, the earth would rid itself of me with its natural white blood cells. Instead, the blood cells helped me. They turned me from a disease that did nothing but arm to a small spark of hope in the dark world. The blood cells took the form of the man I'll forever call my hero.
This man is Bruce Wayne. The world regards him simply for his money and his company, but I know him as the closest thing I have to a father anymore. He saw my broken heart and did his best to tape it together, agreeing to ward me. Warding is where he basically just baby-sits me until some other family member shows up, but I doubt Matt cares enough to come take me.
It's been five years now that I've lived with Bruce. He's the best of loners so most nights, I just eat dinner alone in my room, watching TV and trying to pretend it doesn't bother me anymore. There are nights though that he doesn't work and he makes sure to come home on those nights and eat with me, reminding me that it's not just my shadow and I anymore. I love those nights more than all of the joy that comes with all of the holidays and birthdays put together.
When he took me in, he saw something in me that I didn't see. He trusted me with dark secrets and stories that still make my eyes blur over. Then he found a 'sport' we could both 'play'. He taught me all he knew, training me until I could pull myself off as his real son which will always be one of those impossible dreams I have that make me wake up and bang my head against the wall because it's not real.
For the longest time, I hid in his shadow, obediently training and copying. One day though, he gave me that one light push from the nest and suddenly I was flying on my own, testing my wings and proving to him that I'm as grown up as I'm ever going to be. As expected, he trailed behind me to make sure I wouldn't get caught in any of the stray branches or get blown away with the wind and I'm still fine with that.
Bruce learned after a while that he can trust me to fly by myself most of the time, but sometimes he just misses having his little bird at his side that he becomes the father I always wanted and sticks close to me, protecting and saving me from the baddies that the darkness has to offer. I know that he won't always be able to protect me, but he tries more than my actual dad ever did and that means the world to me.
My story goes on like most teenager's stories do with all of the drama, love and heartbreak that comes with stupid hormones, but I figure the death of my parents will have to be the worst of things you need to hear. You don't need to hear about my love struggles and all those nights I've stayed awake, angrily screaming into my pillow because I can't have that one person I like.
It's strange if you come to think of it. My heart is still dedicated to that tall tower that robbed me of my parents and that cold bar that failed to make them successfully glide to my tower. A few of the remaining scraps I had made sure to bury with my parents so if they're watching over me, they'll know I always love them even when I don't. All that was left I gave to Bruce because any father deserves all of the love I have, especially one of his degree.
With all of my heart given out and divided up, I should have no love left to hand out. I still seem to have too much to contain though! Unless I have two extra hearts down in my feet which would explain my awesome jumping abilities that would make the Super family raise their eyebrows from how impressed they were, I should be just as lonely and loveless as Bruce. I'm not though and I think I know why.
Just like me, Bruce lost his parents when he was little. He saw his get shot though and he had no circus members to drag him away. He had to lay there and sob by himself with no one to hold him and uselessly wipe away his tears. He spent his whole life seeking revenge. That's why at times he can be so angry. I never wanted revenge though. Crazy right? I certainly didn't want to thank Tony Zucco, but I never wanted to kill him.
I actually got to see him again, not soon after, and I had the choice to kill him in the same way he killed my parents because like most killers, he returned to the scene of the crime to enjoy the feelings he got from it. If I hadn't had a heart, I would've pushed him off the tower and glared angrily down at him as he broke on the dirty ground. I did have the heart though and instead, I sent him to prison so the other inmates could hopefully kill him for me. Hey, I just said I never wanted to kill him. I said nothing about anyone else doing it for me.
I didn't come here to tell you a faerietale. In fact, this was just an assignment for school, so I can't even finish my story. It goes on though. There are millions of villains and millions of heroes; there are tears, smiles and laughter that can only be shared between the strangest of non-related families; there's basically everything in it that a faerietale might have, excluding faerie godmothers, wands, magic, creatures of the non-existent worlds and royal families and such.
No, I take that back. My life isn't a faerietale and I'm proud of it. I wouldn't trade my life for any life that a children's book could tell me about. I prefer leotards and heartbreaks to poofy dresses and true love. Why would I want to be trapped in a tower, waiting for a prince or princess, when I could be in a nice world where I'm surrounded by people who know me for who I am and even for who I'm not. This isn't any story that you'll find on the shelves by Peter Pan or Cinderella. This is my story and I'll love it more than anything that the greatest authors have to offer me.
I spell faerie and wolfe differently for my own reasons. Fairy is the poofy skirts and wings with the wands and such, I'm well aware. Faerie is the term used to reference any magical creature which does include werewolves, vampires, Hydra, Scylla, sirens and so forth. I'll take folklore to fairies so sorry if my spelling irked you a little. Review?
-Effie Jae