Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

Heroes and Villains

   I wake up in my apartment wanting nothing more than to get out, get away. I look to my right and see my clothes from last night, as well as Ed’s letter, sitting atop a newly bought arm chair next to my bed. I get up, and fill up the the large tub in the bathroom. Stripping out of my night clothes, I dive into the full tub, letting myself sink into the water. If anything, I need to clean myself, I don’t feel clean. I shudder as the memory of Oswald’s hands on me creep into my mind. In those moments, his touch no longer felt warm or strangely comforting. It was controlling, hoggish. I could imagine his green-eyed expression leering at me as he lifted my skirt and held me in a most unnatural way.

There’s no one I could go to talk about this, is there? Amanda would be entirely unsympathetic, and I don’t know Ann or Morgan well enough to feel comfortable going to them. I could reply to Ed’s letter...Ed! I certainly couldn’t tell him, at least not for now, but he’s someone, right? I get out of the tub and drain the water just as there’s a knock at the door. My heart jumps...is that who I think it is?

“Trixie, I know you’re in there...open up please.”

I pull on my clothes but not so much as look toward the door. There’s no way I’m letting him in, much less letting him plead his case. I tread into my room and look out at the closed window leading out to the fire escape. Thank god for minimal safety standards.

The front door rattles and shakes, “I know how to jimi these doors, I can get in one way or another.”

“That really isn’t helping your case.” I call out from my room, as I run to the window and begin to push it open.

The metal of the window creaks against the rust on its surface, creating a distinct, and loud noise.

“The fire escape? Oh, we’re going to play that kind of game, huh?” his voice echoes through the thin walls, “Alright, you take one step onto that rickety old thing, I’ll come chase you,” he chuckles, his mid-toned voice dipping lower than usual, “it’s a little like cat and mouse, isn’t it?”

Putting my shoes on, I lift myself up onto the windowsill, place a single foot on the fire escape, and stomp that foot repeatedly onto the fire escape, pounding my foot so hard it shakes a little. Oswald’s scrambling feet rush down the stairs, and as soon as his footsteps begin to fade, I jump off of the windowsill and shut the window, running for the front door. I fling it open, but shut it carefully as to not make any noise. I skid down the stairs and on the next flight, the door marked with the number nine is wide open, and Oswald is running into his mother’s room to use to fire escape. Mrs. Cobblepot is in the living room,

“Oswald my dear, the slut’s not worth it!” she cries.

She turns to the door and sees me standing by the stairs. Our eyes make contact for a brief moment. Oswald looks up and down the fire escape, finding nothing. Mrs. Cobblepot, while definitely seeing me, says nothing, and I’m allowed to escape down the stairs.

I reach the street and make a mad dash out into the early morning streets of Gotham. Funny thing, when the streets are safer than within your own home.

   “Words.” I answer, as Ed and I walk along Finger street to Ed’s favorite cafe.

“Is that your answer to my latest riddle?” he responds, smiling knowingly.

I nod, and his smile broadens, showcasing his perfectly straight teeth, “You are...correct. Although I have to admit, that one was rather simplistic, I’ve been on a time crunch as of late.”

“Oh? Why so, Mr. GCPD?”

He hunches over, as if to tell me a secret, “I’ve been given an award.”