Black Mask [formerly known as The Street Fighter]- BOOK I

TWO: RAGS TO RICHES

Two: Rags to Riches

Everything was familiar now. Faint parts of her memory began to flicker to the front. With the utmost earnest. With the utmost excitement. The child within her saw the metal bars around her bend slightly. Light peeked through. The smallest speck of light, and yet it felt so warm-almost covered in a blanket or wrapped in her mother's nurturing arms once more. The budding excitement faded when the door opened.

And there he was. Standing at the doorway. A five o'clock shadow invaded his soft tan, skin. Eyes baggy, red, and puffy. Seeing him that way made her heart sink. For a moment, silence built a wedge between them. And she waited.

And he pulled her into his arms. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, and she stiffened. It was a reflex. She couldn't forget those times. A man had touched her-every inch of her. She heard her muffled screams again. The ones that never received an answer. The butterfly she once was-free, innocent-became a moth. Ugly in every way. Filthy. And most of all. Worthless. His tears spilled against her skin. Hers refused to come.

"My baby..."

His voice cracked; pain washed all over it. He had waited for this moment. To embrace her, to see her again. However, he pulled away realizing it quickly. That wasn't her-the little girl he remembered, playing on the swings, and laughing with him, so freely-unwary of the dangers that lurked in the cracks of light. For the longest time, he waited for something that wasn't going to return. The little girl remembered had died.

Before he led her inside, he checked his surroundings. To make sure, not a single flash was in sight. She willingly followed behind him. Into a new world-his world. He wiped his tears away, sniffling harshly. He then looked at her-stared, trying to read her. Worry found his eyes that stayed on her.

"Riley...a-are you okay?"

Riley couldn't speak. So, she gave him a nod. It was a simple nod he recorded in his mind as a new memory being introduced to the girl in front of him. Before exhaustion truly got to her and everything around her became dark. Her body was expected to hit the ground, but he caught her. His heart jumped as his mind wondered what happened. What could have possibly made his daughter this delirious?

And up the stairs, he went. The question kept invading the peace he tried so hard to keep there. This discoloration of her skin was evidence of her little white lie. With some-what of earnest. With the utmost care. He carried to a room-her old room. The clean white sheets were tainted in the sand when he tucked her in, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Later, his heart sank to the floor. The lingering rage he had bottled inside him fought to set itself free. Walking past her door, he heard her whimpers. Her cry for help. In the same breath, she almost screamed. Matt stopped in his tracks his fingers wrapped around the knob. He then turned it. And pushed the door slowly.

She squirmed. Her eyes shut tightly, and she hugged herself. Her fingers thread along her cold skin. The hairs on her neck stood. Swallow by the blanket she called home at one point, revealed things she didn't want to see. Things she hated. Things that created the person her father couldn't recognize. She had the same name, same face, eyes, lips, hair, same skin color, but it wasn't her. That wasn't his daughter.

And then she woke up.

Riley was back to her conscious state, but the color hadn't come back as she instantly knew.

He heard her.

Riley had no idea he was near. Here he was. Sitting at the edge of her old bed. A white t-shirt hugged his chest and loose sweatpants clung to his waist. He gave a small smile. She mentally scoffed not trusting that smile one bit.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you feeling?"

She was careful not to waver, her shoulders tensed at the gentleness in his voice. Six simple words, yet his voice wavered as if the world had pinned him against the wall. Walking through a path of eggshells. Though cautious, she pondered on the words to say-whether it be the truth nor a lie to protect him. Riley carried a new bag behind her-danger and bloodshed. None of which he should be concerned of. "You scared me, back there." He told her.

"Dad," she kept her eyes on the window to his right, avoiding his worry-ridden eyes. "I'm fine don't worry. I was...exhausted."

Riley surveyed the room, brows furrowed. She was sitting on a soft bed, covered in a warm blanket as her eyes wandered. The walls were a light blue, the furniture was white and pictures of her with her father and mother hanging on the walls. Her father noticed and gave a small smile.

"This is your room..." he told her, warmly. "This was the last place you slept before they took you away..." as he recalled, the tone in his voice. It wasn't calm nor warm. It held disgust and hatred. Matt, for so long, beat himself up about it. She saw it in his eyes. "...right under my nose."

Her heart clench. Matt looked away toward the door, hands clenched into fists. Riley wanted to comfort him. Tell him that she's here now and she won't leave again. However, she would be lying to him and herself. She went to try and hug him, but her fear (her trauma) kept her rooted to the bed. Because looking at his eyes, she saw someone else.

So...she hesitated.

Author's note

Wow, ok. This is the shortest chapter I've done so far. Already. How do you guys feel about this new Riley? Meet Matt, Riley's dad. What are your first impressions of him? He's so happy to have her back.

The first hint to her past. What do you guys think happened to her?

How do you feel about the graphics