The Bane of Our Existence [The Dark Knight Rises]

1: Welcome Back to the World

6 Years Later

"Bría Rós," the judge said loudly, her booming voice filling the courtroom. "Your parole has been granted, although your probation will include no access to prescription drugs except when specifically granted by your doctor and your parole officer. No recreational drugs may be on your person at any time. You will not be allowed to enter hospitals unless with your parole officer or in emergency situations, during such you will need to contact your parole officer as soon as possible. You must check in weekly with your psychologist. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Yes, your Honour," Bría replied with a blank expression. Six years in a medium security prison left her cold. It was not Blackgate, which was reserved for the worst of the worst, the maniacs and murderers, but it was still prison.

"Very well, court is adjourned." She slammed the gavel, and everyone who came to witness the hearing began to shuffle out.

She'd made headlines six years back when she was caught, her assisted suicide had brought out the worst and the best in people. There were people who threatened to kill her, claiming to be pro-life in all that irony. And there were so many people who supported her, trying to pass laws that allowed doctor assisted suicide, even though she was not a doctor.

But six years later, it didn't matter. The few who followed the case stuck around for her hearing, some of them offered their support in finding work. All Bría wanted was a hot coffee, and a warm bed. She had very little money left, her funds that she had saved went to lawyers.

When she was given back her possessions with which she was imprisoned with on her person, she had seventy-seven dollars in her wallet. Her cellphone was long since dead, not that she wanted to open up any social media in fear of the onslaught she would face, but she did have to make a phone call.

Sliding a few quarters into the archaic pay phone, she mumbled about the cost of making a phone call having sky rocketed, but no one was around to hear. Running her chewed down nails through her long brown hair, she felt her muscles flex.

The phone rang twice and then, "Hallo?"

She smiled, hearing her mother's accent, the sense of home warming her. "Hi, mum."

"Oh sweetheart, I wish I could 'ave been there. You should come home, Já?"

"I'm stuck here, ma. Surprised they didn't deport me," she chuckled, wishing she'd been sent back to Canada to serve her sentence. That way she would have been close to her mother, who supported assisted suicide, and stood by Bría throughout her whole trial and sentencing.

"You 'ave a place to stay?"

"Yeah," Bría lied. She did not want her mother to worry, after all this time of knowing she was at the very least safe in the prison with a roof over her head, now she was going to be out on the streets with no job and half of the city hating her. Having a few friends, hopefully, she would be able to couch hop until she got her feet on the ground. "I love you, ma."

"Love you too, Bría. Stay safe."

Bría hung up the payphone and clutched it's dirty handle for a moment. Gotham was never labelled as the safest place in the world, but the caution her mother offered was said with too much intent, too much emphasis. Assuming it was the fact that people still wanted her head on a spike, Bría shrugged the worry away and headed out to face the world. 

                Sunlight greeted her, the warmest thing she had felt in a long time. Glancing left and then right, she wondered which way to go, who to approach first in this strange new world. Having been behind bars for six years and only speaking to her mother on the phone or the prison guards who had become almost like friends, she wasn't sure how to behave in this world anymore.

To her right was protestors, their judging and prying eyes waiting for her. She turned left, knowing that she would have a safer route to wherever she decided to go that way. Hands jammed in her pockets, Bría grew familiar with the streets once again. The city had not changed much, she had that going for her, and she quickly disappeared from the court house and down into the grubbier part of town.

Large and abandoned buildings filled with squatters loomed over her as she walked further into the glum. Although she got lost twice, she managed to find her way to her friend's apartment before the sun set. This was an area of Gotham that one did not want to be in when the sun went down, especially now that Batman had been gone for eight years.

Up six flights of stairs, her breathing hardly changed, she knocked on the door, hoping her friend was still that, a friend.

The door opened partway, the chain keeping the man inside safe from whomever was outside.

"Hey, Robbie, it's me," Bría said sheepishly, brushing her hair behind her ear. A long time ago they had metal in them, but they were removed when she was put in jail and the holes long grew over.

"Bría? What are you doing here?" He closed the door and unlocked the chain so he could face her. His curly brown locks hung over his eyes.

"I was hoping I could stay the night, until I find somewhere..." she realized how desperate she sounded. Before prison, she was independent, had her own place and a car. Now she had nothing but hope that some of her friends were gracious.

He pondered it, then Robbie nodded, "Alright, a few nights."

"Thank you," she smiled, and then was taken aback as Robbie hugged her.

Breaking from the awkward hug, Bría not being one for physical contact, she offered a painful smile. Robbie smiled back, then laughed, "You're like hugging a rock! Did you just work out while you were in prison."

She shrugged, "Basically. Not a lot to do there besides work out and read."

"Well come on in, I'll get you caught up with the world."

I'm going to be doing really short chapters for maximum updates! Please comment if you enjoyed!