Just Like You

By J’Freak

 

***

 

“I know Cain raised you in a bunker and wiped out your records to make you a more effective assassin… But what about your future? What if you want to go to school? Drive a car? Get a job? …You’re never going to be anything besides Batgirl.”

--Oracle, in Batgirl #13

 

      Nighttime. I sit on the ledge of a theater building. The city is full of sound and movement, but in a way, there’s still a peace. Maybe it’s in the way that I crouch, perfectly still, feeling safe and unseen under my dark cape, though the rest of the suit is almost as natural as my skin, now. There’s hardly a breeze at this low altitude.

      I’m watching the people.

      A family of five --- two parents, three kids ---steps onto the sidewalk below me. They’ve just seen a movie, and they’re all talking about it. The kids are excited. They would probably run into the street, if they could. The parents also seem a little excited, in their own way, pleased with the movie. They were still disappointed by some things.

      I don’t often see families. Most are indoors sleeping when I go out.

      I watch the college-age women in their group. They interact in a sensitive, close-knit manner, without even thinking about it. Another group exits the theater, several high-school boys. Interestingly enough, they act just the same, but in different ways. Their words are insulting and coarse, and most physical contact is in the form of a punch, but it’s all bravado. They all respect one another.

      There are couples, too. One girl is happily interrogating her boyfriend, curious about his opinion on every aspect of the movie. He answers, but he’s distracted. Distracted by every aspect of her body. Every aspect is visible.

      While almost everyone walks on, this couple lingers outside the building, almost directly below me. The girl has homework, and it’s late. The boy wants to see another movie, one that she isn’t interested in at all. He thinks it’s unfair. I can tell by the way he stands, when he mentions the movie they just saw, that he wasn’t interested in her movie. They’re both getting hostile. Finally, they part ways angrily. He’s going to the movie. She’s walking home. She doesn’t need his help, after all.

      Her chivalrous boyfriend says that’s fine by him, and goes back into the theater. As the girl huffs and precariously stomps away in her high heels, I follow silently on the rooftops. Unlike this girl too angry to think, I know she shouldn’t walk alone.

      I’ll go… with you… “girlfriend.”

      She walks for blocks in her high heels, seeming more angry and dejected with each mile. As the streets grow less populated, I see the trouble begin. It starts with one man who cranes his neck to watch her. He slips between two buildings and disappears. Then I hear two more, by the building behind me. Somebody whistles softly. A signal. I can feel them gathering around us.

      One jumps out in front of the girl, and she stops, cursing. Her voice is angry. Her body is paralyzed. Others appear behind her, and she can barely turn to take them all in. They appear from everywhere. Eyes and hands, that’s all they are. She is all they’re focused on.

      I step over the building, pointing my toes toward the earth. I bend my knees at the last possible second, breaking the fall with a roll, ending the roll with a kick to a man’s chin. They’re still stunned. I bound toward another man, taking care of him with my fists as I twirl, finishing another with my foot. All are armed. None have guns. I run a circle around the girl, delivering ruthless but non-lethal blows that send blood and spittle flying.

      For a few precious moments, all are down and powerless. They’re big, though. It will take more to keep them down for long. I toss a batarope into the air, and grab the girl by the waist as it latches. We scale the wall. I pull the rope up after me quickly. No trace of us is left behind. The men will be confused.

      I turn to the girl, who is almost as confused as they will be. She has to look at me for a moment, before understanding sets in. Then she feels a little safer… not completely safe. She doesn’t know what to say.

      Neither do I. Effortlessly taking out six thugs without a weapon is one thing. Talking to people, that’s another. Even if I knew what to say… forming the words, that’s the hard part.

      “Where… you live?” I ask, embarrassed.

      Stupid question. She blurts a number and a street name. That might suffice, if I could actually read the signs.

      I step forward, one hand extended. “Show me.”

      She points in one direction, and then takes my hand, and I pull her to me again. We dive from the building as I fire a grappling hook. The girl screams and clings to me.

      She’s light. She might be a burden after a while, but at the moment, she’s light, and her clothes don’t get in the way. She doesn’t wear much.

      I stop every now and then to get new directions. The girl will point one way or the other--- she got used to the building dive after a while ---and we went on. I think she began to enjoy herself. It was an interesting, addictive feeling. I was “out on the town,” with a fellow girl, a sense of kinship forming.

      No wonder Oracle used to push for me to have an identity. She knew this feeling. She knew what I was missing…

      My heart sank. Now I knew what I was missing.

      “That’s my apartment building,” the girl said, all too soon. “You can just set me down by the door.”

      I did as she asked. On the sidewalk, she turned with a smile, and thanked me.

      “Don’t… stay out late… without friends,” I said. “Not… boys… unless they’re good. Stay with you. No… dark… streets… More clothes. Those men don’t like… much clothes. Makes it slower… to…”

      “I can make my own decisions about boys, thank you,” said the girl, almost too quickly for me to understand. “I’m not some lost little lamb who needs love advice--- I know plenty about men. More than I want to know! Don’t tell me where to go, who to go with, or what to do with my body! Not even how to dress it! Okay?”

      She was angry, too angry, too quickly. At least, that’s what she thought she was. I wondered if even she noticed the weak flutter of her heartbeat, the way she stood, the tension in her chest that related to me all of the pain that my words had uncovered.

      Some one was approaching the door. In one moment, it opened, the girl turned, and I was clawing my way up the side of the building to remain unseen. By the sound of the footsteps, I could tell it was a woman. A moment later, her shocked voice rang out. “Cassandra! There you are! Get in here, now.”

      The girl seemed stunned for a moment, probably noticing my disappearance. Then she made an infuriated sound and stepped, with her mother, into the building.

      Hanging on the brick wall, I stopped to marvel. Cassandra. Her name was Cassandra.

      My name was Cassandra.

      I climbed to the roof and overlooked the city, choosing a direction before heading out. These strangers were my charges. I would protect them with all that I had. I would die for them.

      But, I decided, I didn’t want to be like them.