The Bombing


β–‘Maraβ–‘


3 : 15


3 : 14


3 : 13


3 : 12


3 : 11

















Oh. My. God.


I'm going to die.


Everyone in this building is going to die.


And no one can save us, save me, save anyone.


I sprint out of the bathroom, tears stinging my eyes, filled to the brim with fear, unsaid love, and mild irritation. I don't even think about where I'm going as I run down the hall, but I run straight into someone.



I hit them so hard that I fall flat on my butt. Some tears escape my eyes at the sudden movement, and I quickly wipe them away as I stand. I'm about to move out of the way, but the person gets a tight grip on my shoulders.


I look up, wanting to get away from the person and to my father, but I stop at the voice above me.


"Mara? What's wrong?"


It's Bruce's voice, filled with ultimate concern.


"D-Da- B-Bruce, there's a-a-"


"Woah woah woah, hey, Mara take a deep breath, a deep breath okay?"


I shake my head violently, trembling still. Tears are escaping my eyes easier and easier, and I know I have to at least try to tell him what's going on.


"Bru- Dad, there's a bomb in the bathroom." I spit out quickly, and Bruce raises an eyebrow.


"Wait, could you say that slower? It's okay, whatever it is, you can-"


And now I'm angry.


He's telling me to calm down, while there's a goddamned bomb in the bathroom.


I frown, my anger suddenly holding my tears and fear in.


"Dad. There's a bomb in the girls bathroom."


His eyes go wide, either because I called him 'Dad' for the first time, or because I said that there's a bomb in the bathroom.


Probably because there's a bomb in the bathroom.


"Okay, Mara listen to me very carefully. Go to the ballroom and find your brothers and tell them what you just told me. Tell Alfred and Officer Gordon and even Harvey Dent, okay? Then get yourself out-"


Urgency is clear in his voice, but I can't, I won't listen to him. Not now.


He starts to run off towards the bathroom, and now I have a choice. To listen to Da- Bruce?- or go to my brothers like he asked.


I know what my head and gut say; go to your brothers.


But my heart says something different; go to Bruce.


Go with Br- Dad.
Go. To. Dad.


Okay.


And just like that, I'm headed straight to the bathroom I was just in. As soon as I come up into it, I hear the stupid beeping of the bomb. It'sΒ faster than before.


Shit.


I run in, my slight heels clicking against the tile. Dad turns to face whoever is behind him, and sees me. His face turns from - what I can tell - determination to a mix of anger and literal anxiety.


I didn't think he got anxiety.


"Mara, what the hell are you doing here?! I told you to-!!!" He starts, anger prominent in his voice. I'm slightly taken back by it, slightly scared by it, but don't dare back down now. I quickly peer behind him, looking at the clock.





1 : 03


1 : 02


1 : 01


0 : 59


0 : 58


0 : 57


0 : 56






"Dad, I'm sorry, I really am, but I'm staying with you here, no matter-" I start, but Dad's jaw clenches and he grabs my arm, yanking me as he suddenly starts sprinting.


"What are you- ?!?" I begin as I'm dragged along by him, as his sprinting is way faster than mine.


"Mara I told you to do something, just one thing and- !!" He stops abruptly. I swallow, utterly confused.


Dad looks back the way we came, focusing on something.


Then it hits me.


It's quiet.


There's no more sound; no more ticking.


Oh God.


"Dad I-"


He stops me, hugs me tight and starts sprinting once again. I trip at the sudden jerks and yanks, but quickly am pulled upwards.


I hear a deafening sound from behind us, and I know what's going to happen. I feel the ground beneath my feet start to shake.


Dad inhales sharply, tightening his grip on my arm.


My blinking becomes more rapid as I think about all I didn't do, all I didn't say, all I didn't think.


Out of no where, something hits me, and I cry out, falling into Dad, but he keeps running. Which means I keep running. Well, half-running half-dragged is more like it.


But then, out of nowhere, I feel a sudden heat behind me. It stabs into my back, amongst other hard and sharp materials.


I'm in the middle of falling to the floor when a body tackles mine to the ground - Dad's.


It forces me to the ground so fast, so quickly, and with so much force that the last thing I feel is the hard smooth cement slam against my head.

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