Closed for callidususurper
                         Running full speed down the sidewalk, Jack’s little heart was racing. He finally got away- he got away-! The six year old couldn’t be more happy, small body taking him as fast as it could. It was nearing Christmas, and Gotham was freezing, and all he had was a ratty pair of shorts and a T-shirt, but he could care less about the cold right now. Or the fact all his scars and bruises and burns were in plain view.
                        For the most part, the sidewalk was empty, which he was thankful for. He looks behind him, even more thankful his mother hadn’t attempted to follow him if she even had seen him escape. Turning his head back, he yelps, his thin frame colliding with a man. Due to his emaciated, skeletal body, he doesn’t cause harm to the man he hit, but his smaller self slams harshly to the ground.
                   Looking up, blue eyes wide with pure fear, he tries to scramble away, ignoring his scraped elbow and bleeding knee. The man was larger than him, since he was just a very small child, wearing expensive clothes (this scared Jack, nicely dressed people were normally cruel to him). That’s when he saw the long object in his hand. Whether it was an umbrella or a cane, Jack didn’t know, or care, he just expected a beating.
                   Whimpering he shields himself, shaking in the snow.
“ D-d-d-don’t hurt me- p-please- I didn’t mean to-!
I- I didn’t-! Honest! I-I’m s-sorry, sir-! ”