Blood was everywhere.

The floor. Walls. Windows. Curtains. Ceiling. Even the nice Persian rug in the corner.

It was in my hair. It was across my face.

I wanted to cry.

"Let's go," father told me. He jumped out the window, expecting me to follow. My heart was pounding.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

What had I just done?

The little girl's body lay in the middle of the kitchen. A man was lying in his own blood under the coffee table. The woman was dead in the bathtub.

And there were many, many soldiers scattered across the apartment. Everywhere. Covered in their own blood and other's.

My hands were shaking. It was horrible. It was terrifying. I should have screamed. Why wasn't I screaming?

Oh my god. Oh my god.

"Sasha, I said we're going," father's stern voice interrupted my thoughts. I felt frozen. So horrible. So terrifying. I needed to leave.

I glanced down at the gun in my hand. It shook violently. Crimson liquid dripped to the floor. The blood-soaked floor. Innocent blood. Guilty blood. What was the difference? Did it even matter?

I followed my father to the roof. I wouldn't look at him, he would see how weak I was. It was dark outside, well past midnight. I was scared. Scared of the dark after everything I'd just done.

My father's words broke the silence. "You have another mission. Theo Linetti wants a family dead."

No, no, no, no.

I couldn't do this again. Wouldn't. I swallowed hard and tasted blood in my mouth. I felt sick. "Father, I..."

He glared at me. "Don't talk back to me."

"But I... I'm... I don't want to do this..." I stuttered. Father stared at me for a long time. I shouldn't have spoken back. I was an idiot. This was my job.

He grabbed my arm forcefully. "We're going. Now," his voice cut into me like knives. "No," I whispered. "No!" I yelled louder. I struggled in his grip.

"You can't make me! I'm not an assassin, I'm not an assassin!" I screamed while he dragged me across the roof. Tears flooded down my face. Tears? I had not cried in a long time.

He growled at me, "Shut up."

"But... but I'm scared!"

Father turned to me, eyes as cold as ice. "Then learn to control it."

---------------------

I woke up sweating. The dreams were getting clearer the longer I was away from Midnight.

It was horrible, the things I had done. I was a horrible person. I shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have done any of it. Why did I listen to them? Why did I do all those terrible things?

He made me.

It didn't matter anymore, though. This was the beginning of a new life.

It's in the past now, I told myself as I got out of bed. I was trying to be comforting, and it was not working.

Breakfast that morning was amazing. Alfred had cooked up every kind of meal imaginable — from french toast to pancakes to waffles to fruit bowls. There was enough food to feed my entire class at Midnight for a few days.

I had never eaten waffles before. They were incredibly delicious, like heaven in my mouth. And Alfred had dressed them in strawberries, maple syrup and ice-cream. What more could you want?

"This is amazing, thanks Alfred," Dick said.

He was always the polite one. I had grown to like him over the last couple of days.

"You are quite welcome, Master Dick," Alfred replied.

"Sasha," Bruce announced from his seat at he head of the table. I looked up from my food.

"Barbara and Stephanie are coming to visit today. They'll be taking you shopping for some clothes."

I swallowed the strawberry in my mouth and replied, "But I don't have any money."

How am I supposed to go "shopping" without cash?

Suddenly the boys stopped eating and exchanged glances with each other.

What?

Bruce smiled reassuringly. "I'll take care of that. You don't have to worry about anything."

It was then that I realized he'd be paying for me. I'm so stupid.

Of course he was, I was technically his kid now. And he seemed to have enough money to buy me a at least a few pairs of underwear...

Later that morning I was introduced to Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon. They were the two nicest girls I had ever met.

"Girl, we've got you covered! My friends always tell me I have great style," Barbara told me when I admitted i knew nothing about fashion.

"They do not," Steph interjected.

Then she put a hand on my shoulder. "But don't worry Sasha. You're gorgeous, you'll look good in anything!"

Alfred drove us to a huge center called "the mall."

The girls took me to so many stores.

I picked out quite a few items. Lot's of t-shirts, tank tops, sweaters, jeans and shorts. I particularly liked the active wear category, and got a few jackets, leggings and sweatpants. It felt strange purchasing so much stuff with money that wasn't mine; but the girls did not seem to mind at all.

In fact, they looked like they were having more fun then I was.

"It's like having a little sister," I overheard Steph say to Barbara.

I didn't have any siblings, but if I did have two older sisters I guessed it would feel like this.

We went in to a shop called Victoria's Secret that specialized in underwear. Everything in there was pink in some way, with pretty patterns and lace. I had never worn a proper bra before — just sports crop-tops my entire life.

I hardly even had a chest, anyway. Some of the workers there helped me try on different sizes, and I was only an A.

Seriously? I'm fourteen, not four.

Stephanie went a bit crazy and bought me a lot of bras in different styles. I also chose out some panties and a nice pair of soft pajamas.

As we were leaving the store, Barbara spotted a hair salon across from us. "Hey, maybe we should fix up your hair?"

I looked at her with a confused expression.

"Why? Is there something wrong with it?"

She laughed. "No, there's nothing wrong. But it wouldn't hurt to get a trim."

What was supposed to be a quick trim turned into a two-hour session with a talkative hairdresser who didn't seem to like my hair.

"Oh my gosh, what have you been doing?!" She gasped as she combed through it.

Training, fighting and killing, I wanted to respond.

I had a lot of split ends, apparently. And my hair was very, very dry and damaged. I had never really gotten it cut before — only a few times with my dagger when I had been bored in bed.

The lady washed it, massaged it, cut it and dried it. She sprayed it with a lot of different products and then asked me how I wanted it done at the end.

"Curled or straight?" She questioned.

I had no idea how to respond.

"Curls! Please do curls!" Stephanie called out eagerly. "She'll look so pretty."

So my hair was curled with a weird stick. When I looked in the mirror after, I was blown away.

"Woah!" I exclaimed and stood up.

I moved closer to the mirror and touched one of the wavy strands of my hair. It was so soft, I was shocked.

I turned to the lady who smiled proudly at her work.

"How did you do that?"

She scoffed. "10 years of beauty school and a cousin who though I wasn't good enough. Just give up Lola, you'll never be a professional hair stylist with your experience. Well look at me now, Miranda!"

We payed and left before the stylist could finish her story. After looking around the shops for a little longer we decided to head home.

When we arrived at Wayne Manor, there seemed to be a fight going on between Jason and everyone else.

"What the hell did you do?" Dick was yelling.

Bruce had a solemn expression on his face. Damian looked mad while Tim was just laughing.

Jason shrugged sheepishly. "I was drunk, so what?"

Bruce crossed his arms and shook his head. "This is not okay. We're important people, Jason. Every time we step outside there are photos taken of us. We have to be presentable at all times."

Dick chimed in, "Yeah, what happens if we have another interview on national TV?"

"What's going on?" Barbara questioned as we moved to the living room.

All four boys plus Bruce looked up at us. Tim finally stopped laughing and took a deep breath.

"Jason got drunk last night and now has tattoos on his hands."

Steph turned to him with a look of shock. "Seriously!? Jay, what were thinking?!"

Jason did not seem bothered by any of this.

"Show me," Barbara demanded and walked over to him.

He held up his fists and I glanced over Barbara's shoulder to get a look. On his left knuckles read the word 'LOVE' and on the right 'HATE.'

"Jason!" Barbara exclaimed and slapped his arm, though the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

Tim began laughing again. "Oh, man this is something only you would do."

Bruce did not look impressed. Dick was glaring at his brother while Tim continued to giggle.

"It's not that bad!" Jason protested.

Damian was quick to correct him.

"You look like a thug," he spat. "People will think you're just another lowlife."

Jay growled. "Why you little shi—."

Hr went to grab Damian but the boy dodged his attack surprisingly fast.

"I think it's badass," I randomly spoke, even surprising myself. All heads turned to me.

Jason's face lit up. "Sasha thinks it's cool."

Bruce was not amused.

"This is not a good look for us," he sighed. "We have a reputation, Jason. You're irresponsible actions will cause a lot of trouble in the media."

"Yeah, good job, Jay," Dick added sarcastically.

Tim got up and left, still chuckling like the Joker. Damian and the girls followed suit. I decided to leave the older men to sort this out.

"He should see the one on my back," I heard Jason giggle quietly, and Tim burst out laughing once more.

It seemed like he was in for a long afternoon...

Okay so sasha will be starting school soon enough... stay tuned!!

xxxxx