Another Gotham Story

Intro. of Danica Morgan

Everyone I've ever met has asked me what it was like to live in Gotham, and for 15 years I never knew exactly what to say. It was where I grew up and there wasn't much that was strange to me there. Not that little girls walked the streets alone in the city, at least I never did.

My father, Jeremy J. Morgan, is a well known lawyer and he was and still is the owner and sole proprietor of Morgan and law offices. We lived in a larger home in one of the nicer areas of the outskirts of the city. My dad made excellent money and was only second in class to Bruce Wayne, the billionaire king of Gotham. I'd never met him before, only seen him at charity events and ribbon cuttings.

Anyhow, I lived with my dad-oh and Sophie, our housekeeper and maid. She's about ten years older than my dad and her worst fear was me one day spilling chocolate milk on the pure white carpet in the visitors den. As for my school life, there isn't much to tell. I attended Madelyn Sanford's academy for girls. Everyday I was driven to the campus, annoyed for 7 hours and picked back up if I didn't have ballet rehearsals.

I didn't have many friends. Every girl in my advanced literature class had had something in common with a Barbie doll before they were thirteen. I never really enjoyed school and I never understood why he thought I'd like it there. I suppose imagery and safety always come first with him. It's probably not obvious yet, but my dad is overprotective.

I'm not talking about "don't run with scissors" protective, I mean "you're not entitled to a life" protective. So yeah, we didn't get along some of the time, but he's all I ever had.

So I guess, for the longest time, that's what Gotham meant to me. A safe haven, my home and even my prison. But what I didn't see coming was the very day that my life would finally get a kick start. And let's just say I didn't get a new car and I didn't meet the Batman..