Watch the World Burn

I hadn't realized how dirty I was until I got into the bathroom. I stripped from the rags that kept me decent, and stared at my naked form in the polished mirror. Streaks of dirt ran down my face, and the rest of my body was coated with a generous layer of it. There was grime under my ragged fingernails and my hair was knotted and dirty beyond belief. I was also incredibly thin; my ribs were sticking out creating a sharp angle where my stomach went in. My arms and legs showed a hint of the strength I could possess when called upon, but my joints stuck out at my elbows and knees, covered with nothing more than skin. My face was also thin, and though I had darker skin (it was believed my parents were of Indian descent) it could not hide the pallor from lack of nutrition. My wrists were perhaps worse of all. I untied the cloths around each of them, letting the bloody strips fall to the floor and gasped. Both my wrists were black and blue from the shackles, and the layer of skin that had been under my cuffs was gone; instead, cracked scabs covered each in a little ring, like two macabre bracelets.

I turned to face the shower. Rarely had I ever gotten a chance to use one. Only when I was on the run and I…I shook my head, trying not to think of the deeds I did that led to my capture. The Farmer had not had running water either, we washed in a large metal tub. But here, especially for an airplane, this shower was magnificent. I turned the knob under the shower head, and water sprayed out, already warm. I stepped into the shower carefully. Bane had already put in feminine looking shampoo, conditioner and body gel and I got to work trying to clean off as much dirt as I could.

I couldn't help but think about how kind Bane was being to me. I wasn't being treated like a prisoner here (granted we were thousands of feet up in the air so it wasn't like escape was an option) but he was treating me more like a guest who he had been expecting. He was being…hospitable, that was the word.

I rinsed out the shampoo of my hair, using my fingers to try to untangle as many knots as I could. The water that was running into the drain was brown.

The one bad thing about showers is it is a place to think. My mind began to wander back to before I was caught; the long journey of walking and hitchhiking up from Russia all the way down to India. It had been dangerous, but no one really cared about a little girl like me; no money, no parents, no worth to anyone. I stole when I had to, and worked for food and shelter when I could. Every day, I remember, passing by new faces, looking into each one with hope that I would see some semblance to myself in the eyes, or the nose, or the way the mouth turned up when it smiled. After the Farmer died I gained renewed, though childish, faith that my birth parents were still out there somewhere. As I walked, I looked for them in everyone but to no avail. Perhaps I did pass by them, but every face I looked into did not awaken some long dormant child's instinct of knowing who their mother was without question. I think that was why I made it down to India. The Farmer and his wife believed I was of Indian descent. I had hoped to find someone down there who would look at me and say, "You look just like _ you could be her daughter," and I would be reunited with my birth mother that way.

"Amelle?" I heard Bane call out from the other side of the door to the bathroom.

"What?" I asked back, my thoughts broken by the sound of his voice.

"I have some clothes that I believe will fit. I will leave them out here for you. No one will come back here until you are dressed. We will be landing in Gotham City Airport in a few hours,"

"Thank you," I said. I truly meant it. This man, whoever he is, was being more than kind to me.

I finished showering, regretfully turning off the warm water, and grabbing a towel that was by the shower. Looking back in the mirror, I realized both how much better and how much worse I looked. Without the dirt, it was easier to first look at how unhealthily thin I was and see all the bruises and scars that marked my skin. My wrists also looked a lot worse. It had hurt to move my wrists in the shower, but the hot water had made it easier. Now, the scabs that covered each wrist were bleeding again which mixed with the water still coating my body. I took the dirty bandages and tried as best I could to rebandage my wounds myself, at least until I could find fresh ones so I wouldn't get blood anywhere.

I dried off, trying to ignore the throbbing of my wrists as I squeezed all the water out of my dark hair. It had been so knotted before that it had lost so much length. I hadn't realized it was actually down to my back. Once I was done, I wrapped the towel around my body, and slowly opened the door. No one was outside the door. I found the pile of clothes by the bed and held them out, to see what I had gotten. A pair of jeans that looked like they would fit me fairly well, a tee-shirt that looked like it would be far too big, and women's panties and a bra. I blushed slightly at the thought of Bane touching the last two clothes but quickly donned them, and then the jeans and shirt.