I do not own the Justice League in any way, I only own my OC.

OC- Jasmine Ruth, medium light brown curly hair, green eyes. Age 14

oOoOo

I stare at the grey sidewalk underneath me, my sneakers thumping against the ground as I walk. The weather matched my mood, gloomy, grey, but not yet pouring.

Soon the faint sound of grass smashing underneath my feet reachs my ears and I look up, staring fondly at the Flash statue. After his death Central City had had a grand funeral for him in front of The Flash museum. It had been a grand place, showing everyone who visited the heroics of the Flash. Now it was just a shell of its former glory, the windows were dirty and cracked, weeds poked up everywhere, and the once glorious statue was cracked and dirty. The wind rustled my hair as I looked up; there was no one around.

I would have thought that The Justice Lords would have kept this place clean, kept it how it was, how it should be, a shrine to the Flash. I was wrong, I was wrong about a lot of things. Instead they ignored it, didn't touch it or even go near it, the place held too many painful memories.

I smile, staring at the statue as memories of the Flash come back to me. So much had changed since that horrible day eight months ago when the Flash's death has been broadcasted on live TV across the whole world to see. He had saved me once, from a fire. I had been 12 and the fire had been started by something going wrong in the stove and exploding, fire had caught the curtains and it had all gone wrong from there. My parents had tried to find me but I had hid in my closet in the guest room, too scared to come out. They had been forced outside by the fire and smoke and were not able to reach me. I still remember the fear, hearing the fire crackling as it came closer. I could still remember feeling sweat staining my shirt from the heat and tears pouring down my face. Suddenly I had heard a strange sound, as if all of a sudden it had began to pour. What I hadn't known was that the Flash had created a tornado of water and had poured it over the house.

The closet door had opened and I had cringed back in fear only to see a smiling red man.

I laugh to myself fondly remembering how he quickly ran out of the house holding me. I had been a fan of his even before that, but after that he became my idol.

I suddenly frown as reality comes crashing back; the Flash was never coming back. The Justice League was no more, the ones we called heroes had become tyrants. My hands clench in anger as I remember the pain we all went through when the Justice Lords suddenly took over. No more freedom of speech, hell there was just no more freedom. The ones who promised to protect us were the exact ones who hurt us. If you made a scene you were instantly hauled in, even small things like littering was suddenly a horrible crime in the eyes of the Lords. Don't do what they say and you would meet the fate of death, or lobotomized by Superman.

No one could stop them, how could we? We never thought they would turn against us. The villains had it the worst though, obviously I didn't like super villains but what the Lords did… some of them were lobotomized, some murdered, others were tortured first. The Flash's villains had it the worse, Mirror Master, Captain Boomerang, Captain Cold, even Trickster. The Flash had been a kind hero, even to his enemies but obviously the Lords weren't like the Flash. I still remember seeing Trickster running through the streets screaming for his life, as above they descended upon him in broad daylight. Cut, bruised, and bleeding he begged for his life but no mercy was to be found. No Flash villain had been lobotomized; they all had been brutally murdered, every last one. I shiver in the cool wind, I rubbed my arms but nothing could warm up the cold feeling inside me.

There had been resistances, but they had quickly been squashed. The only one to get far was the one made by people with super powers and their friends. There were more people with powers then we had known, a women who could gain the skills and strengths from animals, another who surrounded herself in green flames, a man who wore gold and had a robot sidekick, a man who could stretch himself, brothers who called themselves the names of birds, a man who could shrink himself to molecular levels, another who could shoot a bow better then any archer, a woman with a very powerful scream indeed, a man with no face, a woman in purple who packed a punch, and many others. All were destroyed with no mercy. The worst part was even if someone with powers was found that wasn't resisting they would be instantly killed or lobotomized. The Lords didn't want any chance of their rule to be stopped.

They loved to do that. Try to stop a threat before it had even made a move. They did tests on the criminals they caught, and they always found them. They studied the characteristics of criminals, and began to search for people sharing the same. You could be having a bad day, be a little rude to someone, say a bad word, and suddenly you would find yourself in a prison cell. A nice prison cell, where you would have a TV and books and could see other people living in the center but you weren't allowed outside at certain times. You were always under watch, never alone.

Nothing was untouched by the Lords, moves, books, the internet; anything of entertainment value was carefully analyzed by the Justice Lords for any sign of resistance. Now the only types of movies and books allowed are trashy romance or comedy types. Anything with violence or adventure was gone, to protect us from 'unwanted thoughts of violence and foolishness.' All the sites on the internet left always talked about how it was wonderful to live under the Justice Lord's rule, how we were truly free.

It makes me want to puke. I wasn't the one who felt the same way as was written in an article Louis Lane wrote from the Daily Planet. At least Super Man gave the people inside five minutes to get out before he destroyed the place. Though no one is completely sure if everyone got out, the police weren't allowed to view the area; the police are only tiny pawns for the Lords. Spies, to report back incase someone does something noticeable. It's not like we weren't used to be watched, there were cameras everywhere. I bet right now four cameras were watching me strategically placed by the Batman himself.

Whenever the people began to feel a little braver then usually and tried to voice their concerns something would happen. A villain or another disaster would suddenly appear, and only after that person was destroyed would the Lords appear and save the day. We would cheer, thank them for saving us. If we didn't, if we voiced our suspicions, well, the Lords couldn't have someone being negative could they? No of course not, they were protecting us, wanted us to be as safe as possible from harm. If only they realized the only thing we needed protecting from was them.

I slowly walk away from the statue, feeling cold raindrops hit my head I look up. As the rain began to pour I feel tears trail down my face. Only one person could save us from this hell, and that person was long gone buried under six feet of dirt.

oOo A/N OoO

Might become more than a one shot, I have a bit of a plan and might continue if I feel like it.