MRS

What I’ve done cannot be undone. I cannot stop what I’ve put in motion. But, perhaps, I can keep it from ever starting. He was my first hope, and now he is my last.


I’ve learned…that it doesn’t matter what the story is, some things never change…sometimes I fall in battle. Sometimes I die hugely, bravely, saving the city from something that would destroy it. Sometimes it’s a small, ironic, unnoticed death— I die rescuing a child from a fire, or tackling a frightened pickpocket. 

The end of the story of Batman is, he’s dead. Because, in the end, the Batman dies. What else am I going to do? Retire and play golf? It doesn’t work that way. It can’t. I fight until I drop. And I will drop.

But until then, I fight.


I was somebody before I came in here. I was somebody with a life that I chose for myself and now, now it’s just about getting through the day without crying. And I’m scared. I’m still scared. I’m scared that I’m not myself in here and I’m scared that I am. Other people aren’t the scariest part of prison, it’s coming face-to-face with who you really are. Because once you’re behind these walls there’s nowhere to run. The truth catches up with you in here and it’s the truth that’s going to make you her bitch.


fam·i·ly - 1. two or more people who share goals and values, have long-term commitments to one another, and reside usually in the same dwelling place.;


I’m yours, and I’m not yours.