It Burns For a Moment, but Then it Molds You

Chapter five: Is that thing street legal?!

[longer chapter this time] [an: I'm also adding in some things from my actual life to this story, like when Jason throws his leg up onto a table and yells with his mouth shut, that's something me and my friends do whenever something isnt really going our way and its the funniest thing okay it sounds weird when you read it but there's logical reasons behind it okAY] (F/n=Fathers name)
(Y/n)= your name

You had cried.

It was obvious by the red marks around your eyes, the red tint to your nose and the fluster of your cheeks. The sniffling noises you made every here and there and the faint pink on your lips after you had forcefully rubbed it all off. You would wipe your nose with the back of your hand and then wipe it on the side of your dress, pitifully laughing to yourself about how pathetic you must look. At least as much as you feel.

You sat in a chair outside of one of the main inmate lock up rooms. You'd already seen an angry security guard threatening to quit right here and now, after hearing on an intercom that Harley Quinn was going to be dropped off here. You can just imagine how suckish that guy's feeling if he's in charge of making sure she doesn't run off before she gets in her cell.

You refused to move out of your seat, knees pressed together tightly while you had balled up fists resting and pushing against your thighs. After a while, guards just gave up and told you that if you got mentally scarred just because you didn't feel like moving? It's your fault if you end up back in here when you're older. There would be no physical danger to you being out here, just the mental stuff. Which seems dumb, everyones seen pictures of these psychopaths on the internet or social media.

The tears had started to form in your eyes again, you looked down at your lip and sniffled a bit, a tear drop here and there falling on your light pink skirt and creating a dark peach color as the liquid seeped into the fabric, you could feel it against your skin. The lukewarm tears that eventually turned cold.

You weren't sobbing, just silently crying to yourself. Sniffling, and hair falling in front of your face. You wondered if you looked as pathetic as you felt, then again this wasn't the first time you wondered that.

you rubbed your eyes, looking up from the chair you sat and through the foggy glass window you saw bright blonde pigtails, curiously you moved forwards and saw the patterned red and black designs of none other than harley quinn. She made eye contact with you, her bright blue eyes widening in amusement, as they seemed to always do regardless of what she's looking at. she must have known that the only way a person can get into the room you're in is if they're leaving after seeing a family member, or going in to see a family member.

But seeing Harley Quinn wasn't what made you split, and run out of the exit door to your left instead of just going through the main exit. Yeah, it wasn't Harley Quinn who you saw that made you split. The black pointy ears that caught your attention, you had been staring at them for a moment before the head turned and you were faced to look at white lenses in front of a black cowl. If it werent for the identity concealing mask, you would have been making eye contact with Batman.

He must have captured her and brought her in, personally. Probably just to make sure she gets in.

It was just, something about seeing the Bat. sometimes known for being infamous rather than a famous vigilante. It may have creeped you out just a little bit. and without that black cowl over his head, you're pretty sure he would have been giving you an annoyed glance since guards have left the room with loud rantings about how you just wouldn't leave the door that separated you from your mother.

You know that you admire people like Batman, and whenever your family from metropolis comes on by to say hello you'd ask about their alien vigilante. But it just felt like all of your family's secrets created by your father were written in red pen all over your face and hands, to be seen. As if he could just see right on through you to look upon the lies created by your father out of his fear for losing his family. The lies your father has stained the family with.