The Girl of the Wild {DC Comics/Part 1 The Wildflower Series}

Ch. 17 Wake Up Call

It was so dark, so very dark and all I could think about was running. It seemed like I had been running forever and I didn't even know why or remember when the running had started. All I could remember is that if I stopped, it would be the end for me. The place around me was filled with blacks, grays, and blues. They were hideous colors that, added together, formed figures and faces of things that dwelled in nightmares.

My breathing was rugged, my legs were weak and I could barely see what was in-front of me. A flash of light painted the night sky and what I saw scared me. A large figure was standing in front of me with a twisted expression and a dark scowl. It was the man with the scar. "What... what are you doing here?" My voice wavered and the man simply smiled a sick sinister smile. A crash of thunder caused my heart to jerk in an uneven pattern and I fell, scraping my knee on the ground. I rolled over onto my back and sat up. The man was gone. I clasped my knee in pain. Little strings of tingling pain came from the scrape on my knee and lead down to my toes as streaks of blood slowly trickled down. I wasn't healing. Why wasn't I healing?

A loud bang sounded and I jerked my head around. My eyes widened as fear began creeping down into my soul. The banging sounded again, this time louder and it continued until everything became bleary and the harsh blues, grays, and blacks began to fade slowly away into just one dark color. Everything became quiet, except for the harsh sound of the banging. Before that all faded into inexistence, I heard one single line, "This isn't over, filth."

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The black began to fade into a scene that I was familiar with, but the pounding remained constant. My eyes fluttered open and I noticed I was still in my room at the Watchtower. What I'd envisioned had just been one of my crazy dreams. My comfortable bed was calling me back to sleep and I pulled my comforter further up to my face. I was almost back into the sweet abyss of sleep when the pounding started again and my eyes popped open. I stumbled out of bed with stiff limbs, a groggy head, and tired eyes, and I practically limped towards the door.

With my mask firmly on and straightened, the door was opened and a bright light streamed in. Squinting, I looked up to see Nightwing standing in front of me with a concerned look on his face. "Uh, can I help you?" I asked, my voice sounding croaky from sleep. Nightwing narrowed his eyes as he looked closely at me. "I called for you for a while and began banging on the door. When you didn't answer I even considered kicking down the door and rushing in there to see if you were okay." I looked down at my feet to try to cover up my embarrassment. As I absorbed the details of my toe nails, I wondered about the large amount of concern my friend showed for me. During my reverie, he asked why I hadn't answered, which I just shrugged off as being a deep sleeper. But that was a lie, never did I ever sleep deeply, but I was glad Nightwing had woken me up from that lurid vision.

There was a pregnant pause with Nightwing standing in the door way and me looking down at my feet before he spoke again. "I'll be introducing you to your new teachers today; 15 minutes to get ready." I nodded my head with furrowed brows and shut the door, not realizing how rude it probably was for someone to have a door closed in their face. As I was getting ready, I didn't realize that Nightwing was standing in the doorway of my closed room waiting awkwardly as people came by and gave him interesting looks as to why he was standing in-front of the girls living quarters.

About sixteen minutes later- yes, Nightwing was keeping tabs- I came out with fresh showered hair, a new outfit, and a minty fresh smile. The door was closed and we began walking down the hallway before Nightwing spoke up. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice with a concern so well hidden that someone who didn't know him well enough wouldn't have noticed. I hadn't noticed.

"Yes," I mumbled as I cleared by throat and looked around the hallway, avoiding looking at Nightwing. I didn't want to tell him about how embarrassed I was that he had been the one to wake me up from my nightmare, or that I constantly had these visions and had no idea why they kept happening. I didn't want him to know how frightened I was.