I’m strapped here, unable to move.  Well, I can move my left arm.  Somehow, I was able to get free from the straps…  I don’t know how, I just could.  These people keep… talking to me… a Bruce Wayne and a Barbara Gordon, and some others.  They say my name is… what… Richard… Dick something.  They say that Wayne character is my adoptive father.  I want to ask him why.  Where are my real parents?  Did they abandon me or something?

            They strapped me down because I fought them.  There’s this stupid tube down my throat and it feels like it’s CHOKING me.

            To my left is that Wayne guy.  He’s sitting in a chair, watching me.  I don’t know why they bother, if I’m being as stubborn as they say.  To my right, holding my IV hand is Ms. Gordon.  She’s got red hair and green eyes, basically.  She’s very pretty, but she says we’re just best friends.  I assume that means no romantic feelings.  I’ll honor that.  For the most part I had noticed she’d been sitting the entire time.  I soon realized it was because she’s bound to a wheelchair.  Wonder how that happened…

            I know I can breathe without this tube, but no one will listen.  What do those damn doctors know anyway?  I’ve been breathing my own pace for about two hours.  Punks.

            When I was waking up, I KNOW I heard her voice, and his as well… and I know I knew who they were… but the moment I blacked out and suddenly jerked into consciousness, all memories slipped away…

            By the way, did I mention the pain?  This is honest-to-god tear forming pain.  I already put a hole in the mattress, but they got mad at that.  She tells me to squeeze her hand, but I don’t for two reasons.  One, she looks very fragile… and I’d probably break Wayne’s hand, not to mention what I’d do to hers, if I did that.  But also, that’s my IV hand like I said before…  It hurts to move it at all, perhaps because I damaged my vein during my struggling.  I don’t think she notices, just because I can tell she’s distraught.  I guess you miss things when you’re distraught…

            First chance I get, I’m ripping this tube out.  I KNOW I can breathe with it!  I really do.  They’ve trusted me with my one hand out for a while now, I haven’t even unstrapped my head.  Like I said before, somehow I slid my wrist free.  It was as if instinct to test the strap and slide my hand out…

            I think Wayne’s made of money.  Just by the way he looks and moves.  (Don’t ask me, I’ve found I have a way of… studying people…  I dunno…)  His girlfriend showed up a while ago, and let me tell you, she is gorgeous.  They fit together…

            Ms. Gordon is very pretty herself though.  I wonder what happened to her that locked her into that chair.  She moves so fluid sometimes, though right now she looks dreadfully exhausted…  is she exhausted because of me?  I don’t know.

            Lets assess my body, I’ve been told.  Ms. Gordon has informed me I have “sexy legs” and a “cute butt”.  Wayne just rolled his eyes a few times.  Then he told me that some person did this to me to get to him, and that this person hurt Ms. Gordon and another person, a kid, I think, named Tim.  He told me about what happened to me, and I thought in depth… until the doc came in and blew his explanation out of the water.

            Concussion, coma, my brain is damaged (duh), internal bleeding, external wounds, weak rib cage.  Not to mention that I came in with hemorrhaged eyes due to being choked.  They said that I took at least three major falls during the “victimization” as well.  Thanks for informing me.  I think I’m bleeding again internally.  Dammit.  Whoever did this to me needs to be shot.

            They asked me what I do remember, if anything.  I don’t.  But I keep seeing this bat-like image in my mind with these eyes…  I explained them as “sad and alone” when they asked if they looked “dark and unforgiving”.  What I won’t tell them is that this dark, looming image in my mind… its eyes match Wayne’s…

            I’ve had my eyes shut for the most part, but not completely sleeping.  I guess if I go completely asleep I could slip under into a coma again.  I keep having mini-dreams of a circus, though.  And me on the trapeze with two adults…  I swing out to the man and perform expert tricks, and swing back to the woman.  She gives me a kiss on the cheek and then goes out to the man… but then something happens and they begin to fall… and fall… into blackness… and they’re gone… and then I see that figure again……

            Why do they care so much?  What do I mean to them that they are willing to put up with me?  I just don’t get it, but I do appreciate it… better than being alone…

            Wayne’s leaving the room… Ms. Gordon is asleep on my arm…  That’s fine by me, this damn tube shouldn’t take much.

            I reach up and unstrap my head silently the moment the door shuts and quietly remove the tape holding the tube to the roof of my mouth.  Throat’s sore from having to choke myself to get it removed the first time.  I feel that as I slowly slide it out with my free hand.  Slowly I remove it completely from my mouth and inhale a REAL breath of air.  It burns, but I can do it… man they’re going to be angry.  Setting the tube down, I continue to slowly draw in the burning breaths.  God, it feels good.  And now I’ll be able to speak since my writing isn’t exactly up to par…  I lift my hospital robe to analyze my chest and I can’t HELP but see a certain… appendage.  DAMN…  heh… well… wow…

            Oh shit, Ms. Gordon’s waking up AND Wayne’s entering again…  Oh well, they’ll see *I* was right and they were wrong!  HA!