Basically a reader who had been emotionally neglected by her parents x Batfam.
I honestly just had the sudden thought of this. I had to think for like an hour of what the title should be until I decided to just go with this.
Since she was young, Reader always thought she had a normal family.
Not the best family, but a family nonetheless.
Her father worked abroad while her mother stayed home to take care of her and her younger brother. Because of that, Reader naturally became closer to her mother. How could she not? Her father was mostly a voice through a phone call while her mother was there every day.
Reader remembered looking up to her.
Her mother was smart. Before Reader was born, she had worked as a medical technologist and later joined the military. She left after having children and Reader grew up hearing the same thing over and over again.
"I would've been a general by now."
"If I hadn't left the military, things would've been different."
Her mother never blamed her.. At least not directly.
Never once said it was Reader's fault but children are good at blaming themselves.
So Reader grew up believing that somehow, her mother's sacrifices were because of her.
Maybe that was why she promised herself that one day she would join the military too.
Maybe if she succeeded where her mother couldn't, everything would be worth it.
When Reader was little, her mother used to teach her things.
Reader remembered sitting beside her at the table, proudly showing off her handwriting.
The moment Reader learned how to read and write by herself, her mother seemed to decide that she would be fine on her own.
Homework became her responsibility.
Studying became her responsibility.
School became her responsibility.
Whenever she struggled, there was no one sitting beside her anymore.
No one asking if she understood.
Her grades began slipping until they were always somewhere close to failing.
No matter how hard she tried, she could never catch up.
What made it worse was her younger brother.
The child who seemed to inherit every good trait their mother had.
The type of smart that teachers loved.
The type who always got medals.
Always ranked first in class.
Every recognition day felt the same.
His name would be called.
Their mother would smile proudly.
And Reader would sit there wondering if she would ever make her mother look at her the same way.
The comparisons started early.
"Why can't you be more like your brother?"
"He's younger than you and understands more."
Maybe they thought it would motivate her.
Instead, it just convinced her that there was something wrong with her.
Maybe she really wasn't smart.
Maybe she really wasn't talented.
Maybe she really wasn't going anywhere.
After hearing it enough times, she started believing it.
As if that wasn't enough, Reader slowly became another parent in the house.
Her mother worked long hours.
Most days, it felt like it was just her and her brother.
Watched him while trying to finish her own homework.
Tried her best to keep everything together.
She couldn't even remember when helping became expected.
And no matter how much she did, it was never enough.
There was always something she forgot.
There was always something.
And her mother always noticed.
"Why can't you do something this simple?"
"My coworkers have daughters who can cook."
"What do you even do all day?"
Whenever Reader admitted she was tired, her mother would dismiss it immediately.
"All you do is go to school."
Reader never knew how to explain that school wasn't the only thing she did.
That she came home and cleaned.
That she looked after her brother.
Eventually she stopped explaining.
Nobody seemed interested in hearing it anyway.
The funny thing was that most people thought Reader was cheerful.
Always making fun of herself.
If someone asked how she was doing, she'd immediately turn it into a joke.
People liked funny people.
Funny people didn't make others uncomfortable.
Funny people didn't have to explain why they felt sad.
The problem was that Reader didn't actually know how to deal with her emotions.
Whenever something hurt, she laughed it off.
Whenever she was upset, she made a joke.
Whenever she wanted to cry, she smiled instead.
Most people thought she was open because she talked so much.
But there was a difference between talking and opening up.
Reader could tell someone every event that happened in her life.
She just couldn't tell them how any of it made her feel.
When she was exhausted, though, the act disappeared.
The quiet kid sitting in the back of the classroom staring out the window.
People noticed sometimes.
Classmates would ask if she was okay.
Friends would check on her.
But Reader never believed any of it.
People asked because it was polite.
Because they felt awkward.
Because they were supposed to.
Not because they genuinely cared.
At least, that's what she told herself.
There had been one friend.
The type of person who remembered little things.
The type who checked on people.
The type who reached out first.
Reader never understood why.
So whenever the friend tried to have serious conversations, Reader would make a joke and change the topic.
The friend kept trying for months.. Maybe even years, Until one day they stopped.
The messages became less frequent, the conversations became shorter, then there was nothing.
Reader told herself she didn't care.. That people always leave eventually. That was normal... It should be normal for her and yet, sometimes she'd stare at their old conversations and wonder if maybe she had been the problem.
Then everything fell apart.
It happened by accident while she borrowed her mother's phone.
A picture she wasn't supposed to see.
A screenshot of a video call of a man who is barely dressed.
A man who she claimed to be her friend.
A man who definitely wasn't her father.
Reader remembered staring at the screen long after her mother walked away.
She didn't know what to think.
Didn't know what to feel.
Guilty because she had spent years taking her mother's side whenever her parents argued.
Guilty because she had repeated complaints about her father without knowing the full story.
For we eks she stayed silent.
Maybe there was an explanation.
Maybe she was misunderstanding.
Then after a month her parents announced they were getting divorced.
Reader had never imagined her parents separating.
They argued all the time, sure.
But they always made up afterwards.
Weren't they supposed to stay together?
Less than a month later, her mother started talking to another man.
The man being Bruce Wayne.
Reader remembered laughing when she first heard it because it sounded ridiculous.
Her mother talked about how kind he was.
How much he loved his family.
How he had sons and daughters.
Everything Reader's own family suddenly wasn't.
A few months later, her mother announced she was getting married.
Reader couldn't even attend because she had classes.
So while her mother started a new life, Reader sat in a classroom pretending she could focus..
When she returned home that evening, the house was quiet.
Just empty rooms and silence.
Standing there, Reader realized something she had spent years trying not to think about.
Her father left for work.
Her little brother was with their father.
Her mother left emotionally long before she physically left.
Her friend stopped reaching out.
And now her family was gone too.
Maybe that was why Reader never trusted people when they said they cared.
Maybe that was why she never believed in kindness when she saw it.
Because everyone left eventually.
Everyone got tired eventually.
Everyone said goodbye eventually.
And Reader had spent so many years waiting for people to leave that she no longer knew what to do when they stayed.
