Crimson Streets: an Arkham Asylum Story

Chapter 1

Let's start from the very beginning.

My name is Bernadeth Wittman. I was never the "unwanted" child, as some might think; I was mostly just the "ignored" child. I was a bit of a surprise for my parents, seeing as they already got the only child they wanted, and a son to boot. My mother didn't have the heart at the time to give me to foster care, so when I was born they just...ignored me, which on some days was fine and on other days was agonizing.

I like to consider myself a normal human being, but I'm usually very quiet and prefer books to people. My parents used to find this a major problem, seeing as my older brother was much more popular and athletic, but after living in Gotham City, I find that keeping your mouth shut will get you into much less trouble. I suppose that's why I'm alive and my brother's not.

However, I don't have to worry about Mom or Dad anymore. And you might feel bad for me, but to be honest I never really like them anyway.

You'll see why soon enough.

___________________________________________________________________________

This whole thing started a few months ago, on the day that my brother died.

Life was pretty normal that morning. I woke up early to the sound of police sirens, which were heard so often in the city that they had kinda become my alarm clock. Gotham had gotten filthier and filthier over the years, so by now it wasn't a very pleasant sight to wake up to, but I somewhat liked my view anyway. The sour scent of smoke and gasoline wafted up to my window, and I already heard my parents gushing over my brother Stephen's new grades. I rolled my eyes while I stretched. This used to tick me off, but I didn't really care anymore, seeing as it was my senior year and I managed to save up enough money to go to Metropolis for college. My mother and father were like buzzing flies to me now, rather than being the sources of madness that they had been before my senior year.

Groaning, I sat up and tugged on jeans and a ripped-up concert T-shirt. Mom and Dad never liked how I dressed either, but most of the time they didn't pry as long as I was appropriate. Brushing out my painfully thick blond hair, I slipped into a well-worn pair of boots and strolled down the stairs. As expected, my family fell into silence as soon as I appeared...but on that day, their silence seemed more hostile and threatening, not to mention that it lasted much longer than a few moments like it usually did. However, not yet realizing what was wrong, I completely ignored them as I casually walked past the table they were all sitting at and squeezed into our tiny kitchen. My hand reached out for an apple just as my father finally spoke.

"Um...good morning, Bernadeth.", he mumbled, and I could tell that he was trying not to sound like he forced the words out of his mouth. 

"Morning, Dad.", I replied, taking a bite out of my apple and not noticing that my mother was stalking towards my until it was too late. 

Turning around, I suddenly felt a sharp sting on my cheek. I looked up only to see my mother with an extremely pissed off look on her face and her hand still raised, as if she wanted to slap me again. Pressing my hand to my face, I winced and glared at her. "What was that for?"

Mother was trembling, her face red as a tomato, and at any other time I would've laughed, but this time I knew better. 

"We checked your bank account last night. How dare you try to go to Metropolis?! You know perfectly well that there's a fine university right here that your brother is going to--" 

"Well, maybe I don't want to stay here! Maybe I don't want to do everything my brother does! Have you ever thought about that?!", I almost shouted, my eyes narrowing in anger. "The university in Metropolis is much better than the one here, by the way--and it's safer. Maybe you didn't notice, but Gotham let the goddamn Scarecrow be a professor there. I shudder to think what other criminals might be teaching and studying there. Besides, I think I would have a better future in any other place than in this hellhole."

Brushing past her, I grabbed my back-pack and slung it over my shoulder. "Now, I don't want to talk about it anymore. You can't even touch that bank account anyway, so it's not like you can stop me from going. I'm leaving Gotham, and that's final. Besides, you'll have that thing you call a son to take care of, so it's not like you'll miss me anyway." Pushing my way out the door, I ignored my mother's shouts to come back and hopped onto my school bus. I smirked and sat down in my usual seat, sure that my troubles were over.

Looking back, I laugh at how wrong I was.