Not the Role Model Type

One

Tears escaped your eyes, the agonizing pain of realization before your very own glossy (e/c) orbs, laced with stinging hot tears. You sit on the cold wet ground in an alleyway in Gotham. Your frilly yellow dress is coated in mud and blood. Your adoptive parents blood to be specific. Your breath was shaking as you tried your absolute best to take all of this in, what had just happened.

You gingerly placed your hands on your father's stomach and applied pressure as tears fell from your eyes onto his somewhat nice looking clothes. The soft fabric being wet down by the rain water and the blood. They had just finished watching your school's orchestra performance at Gotham academy. Your first violin solo that you were so proud of. You had been practicing for months on end and just now you were finally accepted into the Solo ensemble. You were only ten years old but you managed to get put up into a higher class with older students. So this was probably one of the most important nights for you so far.

Now they're dead. Your sheet music had flown out of your mother's purse and onto the rain soaked pavement when the attack happened. The notes that once gave you a happy feeling now gave you an overwhelming sadness as they were now soaked in blood and rain water.

"Daddy? Daddy please get up!" You yelled, your shrill child like voice hitched loudly and cracked between words. Salty tears that fell from your eyes and made their way sliding down your cheeks and continued to make  their way over your lips. Some sliding past your lips and into your mouth while the rest dribble down your chin and fall onto your dad's chest. A small pool was already forming and then soaking into the fabric, and leaving another wet spot.

"Please! You can't leave me too!" You shrieked, pounding on the man's chest repeatedly while hearing the loud thumps echoing through the dark alley. Memories of what it was like seeing them after adopting you for the first time crossed your brain, now looking at their cold, unmoving corpses in the middle of an alley long after their murder had fled the scene.

You remained this way for a while. Loudly sobbing into your father's chest as you curled up into a ball on the rain soaked ground. His blood pooling under him and in your hair from his chest, while you laid there. Knowing full well you wouldn't hear a heartbeat. Your mother was so bloody...you couldn't look at her. Her blouse ripped open and her cotton red bra evidently blending in with the bloody slash marks all over her.

loud footsteps and a swishing sound that reminded you of fabric being wiped out from over your bed and slowly being let down like a cape or a blanket sounded through the air. Two sets of loud footsteps coming your way, one fairly heavy and the other in a way,sounded like it belonged to a kid. But at the same time it didn't.

"Robin. We're late, I want you to take her to GCPD right now while I deal with this. I'll scan the area and look for evidence." A deep voice said, you slowly turned around and saw two figures. One was in a way, colorful. With red and green clothes and the occasional yellow every here and there. The other was clad in black. You knew that this was Batman and Robin. You just never thought you'd actually see them in real life. Only ever on the news.

The shorter boy known as Robin took all this in, knowing you couldn't be more than his own age. He let out an arrogant grumble of annoyance.
"I could stay and help, I could run after the criminal who did this while you take her to-"

His speaking was cut off by batman who had already informed the GCPD that Robin was on his way. The boy let out a Tt sound from his lips.

It a while for you to practically be pried off of your fathers cold and dead wet corpse. But eventually Robin had made his way over to the GCPD with you one way or another, already awaiting your arrival.