It was Tuesday afternoon, the sky was covered in dark clouds. Gotham's streets were crowded with hundreds of people walking, among these people was a man who stood out like a sore thumb. He wore a dark trench coat, with a black cap. He looked tall, strong but there was something off about him. He had a small but slightly noticeable beard, his pale skin contrasted with his dark clothing and his scar on his right cheek made room for much unneeded suspicion.
This was Bruce Wayne, the last heir to the Wayne family and someone who had also been missing for the past eight years. He returned home many months ago but he only made it known just a week earlier. He was walking around, trying to keep an eye down on the streets. Not many recognized him but those who did, really didn't care. To them, he was just another citizen walking down the sidewalk with little care in the world. Bruce wanted to smile at their ignorance, their naïve outlook on everything. They just couldn't suspect a man walking on the street to be someone more than just that. No one would know who the real Bruce Wayne is and no one even wants to.
Bruce took a turn and headed into an alleyway, walked for a few moments until he reached the end. He stood in front of the Monarch theatre, he remembered watching 'The mask of Zorro' with his parents. Whenever he remembers that night, he feels guilt, fear and rage all rushing back at him and this time was no exception. He could've grabbed the gun, they shouldn't have gone there, he should've avenged them by now. Bruce began shaking but managed to quickly snap out of it but felt his legs and sat down on the ground leaning against the brick wall, contemplating where he would be if had acted sooner and how he would be. He felt like crying but he just couldn't, he knew his parents would not kneel in a corner and weep, they would act and that's something he must do. He came here to keep an eye on the people and see how they look at the world around them. He was about to get up when he heard a woman's scream coming from deep in the alley, he got on his feet and ran to see what was going on. He ran, turning corner after corner, the screams became louder, Bruce could tell that there was a child there as well. As he turned the final corner, the screams stopped. He noticed that nobody was there. Bruce began walking, looking at what made that noise. Than, he saw it. In front of him were the chalked outlines of his parents. He walked to the spots and kneeled there. I'm so sorry. It's my fault and now I'm paying the price.