My Scars Are Yours Today
Chapter One;
Sixteen days, eighteen hours and thirteen minutes. That was the duration of time that Ivy had been staying in the comfort of Wayne Manor. It had been such a bright day when she’d arrived at her uncles house however she’d hardly felt like she could be overjoyed at seeing her family member due to the circumstances it was under.
The days spent at Wayne Manor were not at all ‘exciting’ and ‘glam’ as the magazines described the Playboy’s house to be. No, Ivy found it dismal and lonely. The only time she left her room was to enter the En Suite but other than that, she stayed in bed all day with the curtains drawn and door shut. Alfred, her uncles' Butler, would bring her food up and try to talk to her but would fail each time and always had to retrieve the plates of cold untouched food from her room in the following hours.
Ivy’s long brown hair hung limply and her green eyes no longer held that enchanting sparkle. She was loosing all of her grips on reality but she didn’t care about her physical health let alone her metal health. She lay on her stomach on the queen sized bed just staring off into space with a blank mind.
Why don’t you do us all a favour and do something, I’m dying in here!The clear voice made her jump slightly at its presence. It seemed so close yet Ivy knew it’d only take her medication to help hide the voice within her.
Look, you have to face the facts honey; your parents are dead now and you live with Uncle Bruce. You should just get out and make friends. You know… like normal sixteen year olds.
“Leave me alone. I’ve run out of meds and I don’t want to talk to you,” Ivy muttered, her soft voice being muffled by the green satin throw.
Well if you’re not going to talk to me, who else are you going to talk to? Alfred? You want to know my opinion? You should stay off of the meds now. They just make your miserable. Its not like your parents are still here to force you to take them.
Look what good they did you anyway! Your hair used to be so gorgeous. You’ve been off of them for a good week already so why not just forget them all together – can’t you remember how we used to be best friends?
“I’m miserable because I don’t want to be here. This city is full of crime and bad people – you know, the kind of person that happened to kill my family.”
You’re forgetting that they were killed because they never made the payment for the drugs that they were injecting themselves with. And you know, if this city is filled with those kind of people, why not get revenge on them all?
“Shut up,” Ivy growled lowly, standing up and moving to the mirror. She tried to busy herself by brushing her hair but the consistent hum of the voice in the back of her mind was so overpowering. Sure, she’d admit that she had been close with the voice when she was fourteen, but how can you truly be friends with a voice?
Come on. We can be a team again! I know you’re considering it – don’t deny me. Please.
The days spent at Wayne Manor were not at all ‘exciting’ and ‘glam’ as the magazines described the Playboy’s house to be. No, Ivy found it dismal and lonely. The only time she left her room was to enter the En Suite but other than that, she stayed in bed all day with the curtains drawn and door shut. Alfred, her uncles' Butler, would bring her food up and try to talk to her but would fail each time and always had to retrieve the plates of cold untouched food from her room in the following hours.
Ivy’s long brown hair hung limply and her green eyes no longer held that enchanting sparkle. She was loosing all of her grips on reality but she didn’t care about her physical health let alone her metal health. She lay on her stomach on the queen sized bed just staring off into space with a blank mind.
Why don’t you do us all a favour and do something, I’m dying in here!The clear voice made her jump slightly at its presence. It seemed so close yet Ivy knew it’d only take her medication to help hide the voice within her.
Look, you have to face the facts honey; your parents are dead now and you live with Uncle Bruce. You should just get out and make friends. You know… like normal sixteen year olds.
“Leave me alone. I’ve run out of meds and I don’t want to talk to you,” Ivy muttered, her soft voice being muffled by the green satin throw.
Well if you’re not going to talk to me, who else are you going to talk to? Alfred? You want to know my opinion? You should stay off of the meds now. They just make your miserable. Its not like your parents are still here to force you to take them.
Look what good they did you anyway! Your hair used to be so gorgeous. You’ve been off of them for a good week already so why not just forget them all together – can’t you remember how we used to be best friends?
“I’m miserable because I don’t want to be here. This city is full of crime and bad people – you know, the kind of person that happened to kill my family.”
You’re forgetting that they were killed because they never made the payment for the drugs that they were injecting themselves with. And you know, if this city is filled with those kind of people, why not get revenge on them all?
“Shut up,” Ivy growled lowly, standing up and moving to the mirror. She tried to busy herself by brushing her hair but the consistent hum of the voice in the back of her mind was so overpowering. Sure, she’d admit that she had been close with the voice when she was fourteen, but how can you truly be friends with a voice?
Come on. We can be a team again! I know you’re considering it – don’t deny me. Please.
♠ ♠ ♠
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