Ring. Ring… Ring
‘It’s just the phone.’ I thought. ‘Who ever it is will hang up soon.’
Ring. Ring… Ring. Ring… Ring
‘Damn.’ I groaned as I rolled on my side. The clock said it was 5:30 am.
Ring. Ring… Ring
I reached for the phone on my bed side table and answered it.
“Hello,” I said into the phone. Even to me I sounded pissed off, and I was.
“Someone didn’t get much sleep.” Said a voice.
“No freaking duh, Jonathan.” I almost yelled, “Do you have any idea what the time is?”
“Sorry, I know you wouldn’t have gotten much sleep.”
“Yeah, two hours.” I said sitting up.
“Sorry. But it’s important,”
“Has someone died?”
“No.”
“Are you going to die?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not important enough to wake me up at some ungodly hour of the morning.”
“But-”
“No buts Jonathan.” I was about to hang up but he yelled something into the phone. “What did you say?”
“I’m meeting with a new mob boss and I would like my lovely little sister to be there.”
“So in other words; Your going to try and sell your drug to a dealer and he is bringing some of his guys with him and you want me to be there to kick their ass encase you piss them off and they try to bash the crap outta you.”
“I guess you could say that, you coming?”
I sighed.
“Fine. Where and when.”
“Great, tomorrow night at ten by the old dock on the out skirts of the city. You know the place?”
“ Yes, that’s a good place to dump a body.”
Jonathan laughed.
“Yes. So I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
“No. you’ll see Raven tomorrow night. Will I see Scarecrow?”
“Yes, I’ll see you then. Good night.”
“Good night.” I hung up and put the phone back on the bedside table. I stared at the ceiling, thinking, not about anything in particular just thinking. I lived in the quieter part of Gotham but not where all the rich people lived, I wouldn’t live there if I was payed to. There was no fun, no excitement with being waited on hand and foot; I could not stand living like that. I am a fighter I was born one and I will die one.
I woke up at the sound of my alarm clock going off.
“God damn it!” I yelled as I threw my pillow at the clock, making it shut up. “Can’t I get more than four hours sleep?”
I got up and went to the bathroom to turn on the shower, and got in. It was nice to feel the warm water run over my body and through my dark brown hair; I looked at the few bruises I had on my arms from my little outing last night. There was an underground fighting ring where people went to fight and make money; you went there and fought other people and depending how well you do, you could win a hundred dollars in an hour. Raven was my fighting name and in a few short years I became the best and most feared person there, if anyone ever bet me they won three thousand dollars, not that that would ever happen. I still won money for kicking their puny arses but not that much.
