They told me I'd never make anything of myself.
A quiet figure slinks along the edge of a building. The moon is high in the sky as she moves, her form grazing the bricks that line the rooftop. Behind her, a large skylight shines brightly into the cool, brisk night air. The dull sounds of a jazz band and the murmur of polite conversation make their way through the few open windows that surround the room.
They told me that I'd never get anything unless I took it.
As she moves, the figure atop the building squints. The squeaking leather of her suit and the jangling jewels that hang from her body make her easy to spot and even easier to hear. She throws caution to the wind, though, and slips into an opened window.
The day I first stole for my own benefit, I felt something.
She looks around. The police chief's darkened bedroom. She snorts aloud, realizing that it isn't as lavishly appointed as she thought it would be. She glances around. She's been in plenty of homes like this one before, and none of them have gotten to her. This one is no different.
I've been searching for it ever since.
The music of the chief's party swells and comes to a halt, eventually being overrun by thunderous applause. Assuming that the coast is clear to push further into the house, The Catwoman moves towards the door, reaching for the handle.
As she gracefully wraps her hand around the brass knob, it begins to turn. Drawing back, she sulks into the shadows.
I've trudged through every alleyway, lain on every politician's bed, crept along every rooftop.
"Shh!"A man hisses. Draped over his arm is a woman with a bottle of champagne in her hand. A crack of light shines into the room as the drunken pair forget to fully close the door behind them.
Peering from behind an armoire, the burglar smirks to herself as the woman spills champagne all over her lover's lap.
"****!" He growls
"Drunk bimbo."
"It's barely -hic- noticeable." She insists.
"Tell it to my wife."
The drunken girl says something more, but the cat is already prowling down the hallway, leaving no trace of her presence in the bedroom.
I looked inside myself and saw nothing but anger and torment.
She opens another door, finding the police chief's private home office.
No matter what I've told myself... what I've desired, the truth is that deep down, at my core and in my heart...
Not wasting a second, she begins to tear the office apart, ripping books from shelves, lamps from the tables, and paintings off of the walls.
I enjoy this.
Eventually, she finds it: the chief's personal safe. But she's too late, she's made too much noise or set off an alarm or underestimated the sobriety of the couple in the other room.
And I'm not going to stop until someone, or something, puts me down for the last time.
CA-CHICK!
CA-CHICK!
CA-CHICK!
Dozens of bullets are loaded into chambers behind her back.
Catwoman looks over her shoulder, the moonlight illuminating every curve on her flawless body.
"Mraow." The Catwoman says aloud, a curt smile sliding onto her pouting lips.