November 29, 2001

Time: 4:20a.m

My Apartment, Gotham City

I’m home, have been home for a few hours now. More so, I’m home from the hospital… again. I’ve been seeing a lot of that place this past year, and I think I know why. I’m stubborn. Irresponsibly STUBBORN. I don’t listen. I beg, I plead, and I won’t stop until I get my way. I don’t see why anyone would dare put up with me.

That last time, when Dick… stabbed me and I had to go back to the hospital for surgery, I swore I would change my ways. And I HAVE! I’ve been a VERY good girl! I’ve listened to the boys. I’ve taken my medication, I stayed in bed and everything. They even allowed me to cook for them just to… move around a bit, ya know? But now, I think I went too far. About a week ago or so, I asked to go and get the mail. Dick agreed to let me go, just as long as I would come back in eight minutes. I accepted and I… went. I wasn’t planning on running away or staying out longer than intended or ANYTHING like that… but something happened…

I don’t even want to think about it. Let’s just say… the whole ordeal ended up with three bullets riddled inside of me, one getting lodged into my spine. When I finally woke up, the doctors told me I may never walk again, and I…might be in a wheelchair the rest of my life.

SO many things went racing through my mind. My career. My…boyfriend. My… life. Never being able to walk means NO Batgirl… probably ever AGAIN! I really blew it. I screwed everything up.

I’m IN the damn thing now, in my apartment, just starring out the window. Sparks won’t even come near me. Not that I don’t blame him, he’s probably afraid of it. To tell you the truth… I’m afraid of it. Wally’s been keeping his distance ever since I’ve been home. He’s ashamed, isn’t he? Who needs a girl who can’t WALK? I’m… not even a woman anymore. This damn chair.. I’m stuck. I’m REALLY stuck. If I would have just stayed indoors and mind my own business, I bet none of this would never have happened.

I feel as if I want to cry. I do… but… I’m to shaken to. Too weak to do anything. ALL I keep getting are flashes of that night. I keep seeing HIS face, his hands… touching… me. GWAD—he… I… he… I’m sorry.. I can’t finish.. matter of fact, I’ve.. gotta go… go do.. SOMEthing…