Tonight, something happened that I thought wouldn’t happen again.  I don’t want to go into details because it’s too… too painful.  No I’m NOT going to the hospital.  I can’t.  I can’t see Barbara like that.  And I know what that bastard did to her.  I know…  I want to kill him.  I think I would have too, had there been no one else around.

            In college I majored in criminal psychology and in health psychology.  I minored in History and in Criminal Justice.  Not something I tell just anyone.  Hell, I don’t think even Babs knows.  Bruce knows, because Bruce knows everything.  Doesn’t he?

            The reason I mention this is because I’ve dedicated my life to stopping crime in my own ways.  Technically, I have the capability to be called “Doctor” or “Professor” but I’ll leave that to Wally.  But instead I work underground.  I take all the risky angles, but also the illegal ones.  Have you ever seen that movie, 8MM?  With Nicholas Cage, with that film that has that girl getting murdered on it and he has to determine if its real or not?  I’ve actually had to do that.  These films are designed for crude sexual pleasure, and often they’re staged.  That’s the common decency way to make these sorts of films.  But every once in a while you get a REAL murder and… it’s sickening… I’ve learned all too well about death dances and such.  Then there’s the rapes and the children and…  God, what have I gotten myself into?

            Yes, I am still innocent, however, because as sick as those crimes are, they’ve happened to other people.  Faces I’ve never seen before and I will never see since.  And the common villain doesn’t hurt people… like THAT.

            Back to tonight…  After what happened to Barbara… happened, I managed to break away from Batman and I was standing there and I was staring at a switch blade as I cleaned it (because I fucking began to castrate the fucker that hurt Barbara) and I began to wonder…  I took off my left glove and I cut the back of my hand, deep.  It didn’t hurt though.  It felt… rather GOOD, actually.  Then I turned my hand and swiped it across my wrist, deep.  That didn’t hurt either…

            It’s still bleeding now, two hours later, I’m dizzy from the loss of blood, but that’s okay.  The switch blade is in front of me, with my assigned glock to the side of it.  I want to try it, just to see what would happen.  Anything can be better than what I’m feeling now… it’s always the people that others last suspect of these things that contemplate them, you know.  Bet you all of the five founding Titans, save Roy, have tried this at some point…  Well, not Garth either.  He’s been kind of a nervous wreck most his life, but he is a brilliant soul, he’s stronger than us.  Donna might not have, only because she can see a ray of light in the darkest of situations…

            Wally, I know has.

            It’s been building to this point for a long time.  Final night as Robin, those years of… stuff I did on my own, finding out Bruce and Barbara together… let me tell you, that killed my heart.  That’s when I started getting mucho depressed.  It was after some rather personal experiences that Doc Les would put me on anti-depressants.  Yeah, I take more than I should of those, but they’re just not strong enough on me!  I can take ten straight and I still feel as bad as I did before…  But now I feel worse.

            When Barbara told me she still was *in love* with me a while back made me want to scream.  Why the HELL is she thinking things like that while she’s with Wally?  Yes, I do love her.  I have since the first day I met her when we were kids.  I will until the day I die.  And maybe I have and will again kiss her.  But I can’t hurt Wally like that.  He’s my BEST FRIEND…

            Who I found out raped a girl…

            I think that’s what pushed me off the edge, Barbara’s second rape just snapped the rope that I might’ve saved myself with.  When he told me that, I began to have a panic attack.  And since then I’ve been having them.  Most of the time they hit me in my sleep.  I’ll wake up, just thinking about the things Wally told me and I begin to freak out.  Wally’s my best friend… my innocent best friend, he’s not supposed to do things like that!  I always thought he respected the opposite gender.  I was so wrong.  Tonight, when I got home a few hours ago, I cried a while.  Over everything.  For everyone I can’t save, including Wally and Barbara, and all those innocents… For Donna, for Garth and his family, for Roy and poor Lian.  And for Tim and especially Bruce.

            After that, I became curious, and it brings me to here.  My switch blade, my gun (issued to me by me, not the BHPD), and my left wrist bleeding horribly.  As you can see on the edges of the paper, some of the blood’s touched the paper…  I’m hoping someone will find me.  Preferably Bruce, and I don’t know why…  Though I’m doubting so.  No one comes by this way.

            I know the drill--look at what you have going for you.  What do I have going for me?  Death, I know that.  I probably won’t do it, but I keep envisioning the ways I could.  I probably won’t even touch either.  I’ll probably go to bed, letting my wrist continue to bleed, and see if I make it to morning.  If I do, I do, and if I don’t, I don’t.

            Until I make that decision, I’ll sit here, staring at the two… and just think about how free I am right now, that I hold my life in my hands to control, if even for an instant.  I can decide whether to press on or to stop.  And if I want to stop, I’ll be able to choose.  Like I said, I probably will not carry through with these thoughts… but it’s a wonderful feeling, knowing for once I have the choice.

 

Dick Grayson