Lost Children of Gotham
Prolouge
Fake. A word that defines many people. A word that speaks the truth. A word that can be a blessing turned into a curse. Lies. Liar. Words that describe emotion. They make fake. It gives clarity. Hope. Hope is a lie. Hope can be truth. Hope. Hope, hope is neither. Confused? Understandable. All words attach. All words connect. But, they're just words. Right? They mean nothing. They don't live. They don't speak. They don't define anyone or anything. But you're wrong. What they do is explain. At least, better then we can.
Chapter One: Define
She had never felt more sick in her life. And that was saying something. As she walked down the hall of death (at least in her opinion), she wanted to throw up in her own stomach. On second thought, she thinks she's doing it right now. But these feelings were not her fault. No. oh no. it was that worthless, piece of crap she had the sense to call her boyfriend. Yep. She's going to blame it all on Jason Todd. He just had to open his big fat mouth. He just had to! Now here she was walking down the hallway to face death. She was officially doing it. She was going to commit suicide trying to pull this off. All for the little brat. He's lucky she cares. As 'Sofia' walked on the marble floors, she looked around the majestic place. She saw things of all kinds. Statues, chandeliers, guards… but what really caught her eye was the paintings. Truly dark works of art. People with missing heads, animals attacking living things, knifes covered in blood. Yep, hope they planned her funeral in advance.-
End of Sneak Peak
(Please let me know if I should continue this story)