Bruce's Little Orphan [John Blake]

Orphaned

Brooklyn

I opened my eyes after what seemed like years, but I'm sure was only a few hours.

There were so many thoughts streaming through my mind, that I could barely ever process where I was. It was definitely not my mother's apartment. "Where am I?" I whispered to myself.

"Wayne Manor," Came an accented voice, startling me. I turned and saw an old man in a black suit, with white hair and a wrinkled face, walking into a small sitting room that I now realized I was in. I became even more confused. Why am I in the richest man of all of Gotham's mansion? How did I get here? Who is this old man? Where is my mother? What even happened?

I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded, not being able to wrap my mind around this. In my whirlpool of thoughts and questions, the only thing that I was able to mutter, was, "W-What?"

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Alfred Pennyworth, butler of Bruce Wayne." He said, setting down a tray that held what looked like tea, that I just now realized he was holding. "Let me start by asking you a simple question. What is the last thing you remembered?"

I looked down at the fine china that held the tea, and suddenly found myself in a memory of the night before I blacked out.

"It's your turn to wash the dishes, Brook." My mother said with a smile as we finished up dinner.

"Do I have to?" I whined childishly, joking with her. I smiled back at her, standing up and taking her plate from her, bringing it to the sink.

I felt her walk up behind me. "How about I help you? It'll be quicker."

"Okay!" I said happily.

Once the dishes were finished, we walked back to the table to put away the remaining food. "Want to dish us out some ice cream?" My mom asked hopefully.

"No thanks, I'm full."

She looked shocked, then smiled and turned away from me. "No room for dessert? You are not my child." She joked, causing me to laugh.

"Well, I'm tired. I think I'll just go to bed early." I said, yawning to prove my point. "You enjoy your ice cream!" I laughed.

"I will, thank you!" My mom laughed, getting out a bowl. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I walked down the hall to my room, and crawled under my blue sheets, turning off the light as I did. As I lay in my bed, though, I did not sleep. I stayed awake, staring outside, watching the raindrops race down my window, as I thought about everything.

I thought about Batman, Gotham's hero, yet, in my mother's opinion, the reason Gotham's falling apart. I don't agree with her at all. If it weren't for Batman, Gotham would've been burnt to a crisp a while ago.

I thought about how my mother blamed Batman for the Joker. It's not like the Joker wouldn't have done this if Batman weren't around - he probably would have done more damage.

I thought about how my mother thought that she and I were perfectly safe. Her logic - that because she hates Batman, and the Joker hates Batman, that we're not likely to be targeted - isn't incorrect, it's just that nobody's really safe around a man like the Joker.

Suddenly, I heard a crash form down the hall. It scared me, but I brushed it off as my mother maybe dropping the television remote on the hardwood floor by accident, as she does at least twice a day.

I closed my eyes and remembered the sweet face of Joseph. His big brown eyes, rounded face, and sweet smile whichbrought tears to my eyes. It was only five years ago that he was taken away from our family. Our father followed him shortly after, being shot on his way home from work one day. It was a terrible surprise to my mother and I.