"Oh, you're awake!" Selena said walking into the living room. I stared down at my feet. Bruce entered the living room. "Hailey?" I didn't answer. My mind swirled at the thought of the two shadows. Tears burned in my eyes. I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Hailey? You need to go home, now. Okay?" Selena said to me. I nodded my head and stood up.
I picked up the scrapbook and picture frame, and followed Bruce out of the apartment complex. The limo was waiting outside. I climbed into my usual seat and found Tim on the other side. I got in without a word. I stared down at the picture in my hand. My mother's smile was so sweet and goofy, I just don't want to believe she's gone. It's been 8 years and I still don't want to believe it. It's just too hard to take in.
"Hey," Tim said looking out the window. "I'm sorry for what I said." I looked up at him. "It's fine," I sighed. "Did you mean it?" He looked over at me and raised an eyebrow. "Mean what?"
I looked back down at the picture in my hand. "Did you mean what you said? That if you were there you would've laughed too. . ."
I heard him take in a deep breath. "No, I didn't mean it. I was just jealous because it seems like Bruce likes you more, but I know he loves us equally." I sighed. "Thanks, Tim." He looked over at me and gave me a sympathetic smile.
"It must be hard for you," he said. "What?" I asked. "What you've been through all these years. You witnessed your mother's death, and I know that can't exactly go unforgotten easily. . ." he mumbled. "What surprises me is how you're always happy somehow, I can't seem to get over my parents, even though I've never really met them."
He looked back up at me. "What I'm getting at is you're a great little sister," he said ruffling my hair. Sometimes I almost forget Tim is older than me. He acts so childish sometimes (I can't say anything, either.) that I forget he's 15.
"Thanks, Tim. I'm glad I have such a great older brother," I said smiling. He returned the smile. The limo stopped and I assumed we were back at the manor. We climbed out and headed inside. I took the elevator upstairs and went into my room. I placed the scrapbook on my nightstand and stared up at the bottom of my canopy that hangs above my bed. My eyelids became heavy and I drifted off to sleep.
~Dream~
I was sitting in a cell. I clasped my tiny hands on the bars and cried out for help. Tears flooded from my eyes as I heard gun shots. Terrified, I ran from the bars and hid myself in the corner. "Hailey?" I heard someone yell. "Hailey? If you hear me say something!" The voice belonged to my mother. "Mommy!" I shouted. I heard rapid footsteps. My mother, Harley Quinn, arrived in front of my cell. She picked the lock and opened the door. I ran into her arms and she scooped me up. "I'm going to get you out of here, Hailey!" she told me. "I promise!"
Then, came the laughter. I knew what would happen next, but I didn't want to see it. I willed myself to wake up. WAKE UP! WAKE UP!
I shot awake. Sweat stained my forehead and pillow. I was breathing heavily. I placed my head in my hands and cried. I cried for what seemed like forever.
I wiped my eyes and looked up. I saw a girl in a wheelchair, with glasses, and red hair pulled back into a ponytail.
Barbara. . .