Of Fire and Flames (A Nightwing Love Story)

Chapter Two ~ Gotham

When I started running I knew it would only be a matter of time before someone managed to see what I looked like. Apparently today was the day that happened. Earlier today, I stole some clothes from a second hand store, but at the time I hadn't realized that there were cameras. They got a picture of me, but thankfully it was extremely blurry. Though they did post it all around town and now the police were showing the picture around to the people that were walking around on the streets.

Geez! All this for a pair of used jean shorts and a couple t shirts? You'd think they were designer by the way people are reacting. I was hoping that because I put them in my bag and not wear them yet, that no one would notice me as I pulled the hood of my jacket over my fiery orange hair and made my way into the woods and out of town.

Much to my dismay, an officer saw me and started chasing me through the trees. I knew I was going to regret this but, I threw out my hand behind me, successfully creating a wall of flames. Though I regret having to hurt the forest like that, I had no choice. No choice? Hmmm, that seems to be my excuse for alot of things I've had to do over the years to survive. Maybe I should just save everyone the trouble...No!

I cannot allow myself to think like that... I may not like my life, I may even hate it, but I will not throw it away. I will make the most of it...I look back at the blaze I created and sigh, but from now on, no more small towns. An outsider draws too much attention. I need to find a bigger city to hide in... wait that's it! I know just the place. Gotham city, here I come.

For all the attention this city gets for it's 'heroes' this city has more crime then cities without heroes. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to comfort myself...but it wasn't working very well. Maybe leaving the small towns behind me wasn't such a great idea. There I could get food, but here? I shake my head, I haven't got a clue how to survive here.

"Hey doll face come over here! I can show you a real good time," a scary looking man in his thirties, (Obviously drunk) calls out to me.

I drop my arms from my sides and roll my eyes at him, "You sir, wouldn't know how to treat a lady if your life depended on it...and if you don't leave me be it will."

"What will?"

I'm clearly going to have to spell it out for this drunken idiot, "I give you this choice sir, leave me be or regret it."

He laughs this awful drunken laugh and starts to move towards me, "What could a little thing like you do against a man like me?"

"Plenty," I reply back to him as I allow my inner fire to show in my eyes.

He points at me in alarm and backs up a step, "What kind of freak are you?!" he shouts right before he runs off.

I sigh and shove my hands into my jacket pockets and keep walking. Even a man, drunk off his wits can tell I'm a freak...will anymore ever see me as anything more?

For the past week, I've been staying in the attic of an old theater. From what I can tell they only use this place for a Christmas Ballet, but they keep it heated and cooled all year long to make sure the wood work stays in good condition. Apparently this place has been around since the 1920's. It's probably not the best idea with my nightmares...but I haven't had a real roof over my head in months....and I suppose I'm just selfish.

I want this. A place to be able to call 'Home' and for the for time in what seems like forever, I think I've found it. There's even a grocery store right down the block. They have to throw out products that are nearing their expiration date, even if they are still good to eat. So every night after the store closes I sneak open the back window, sneak down the fire escape, and get what I need to eat.

But the sad thing is I'm not the only one to do this. I see Mother's with small children there, digging through the bins. I see people in clothes that are more like rags then clothes there. And then you have a couple other teens like me, run aways I'd assume. No one ever speaks to each other, we merely get what we need and leave...though it is nice to be around other people without having them trying to arrest or capture me.

Is this really how my life is going to be? I know that right now I'm in better shape then I've been in for along time but it's all subject to change. All it takes is one incident, one accident, one panic attack, one dream...and my little 'home' will be no more. Control, I need control. But you can't control fire...you can only extinguish it.