Journal #3, Entry #9
So it's the eve of Christmas Eve, and my presence is requested at Wayne Manor. We knew at the outset that I wouldn't be able to stay at Stowe with everyone... even if I really wish I could. One red-eye flight to Gotham City -- bargained down from an afternoon flight -- and I'll be back in the Manor. Oh joy.
It's not like I hate Bruce or anything. I never could. But I can and do hate Gotham City. The crime, the crazy people in it. I was a pretty normal kid, comparatively, before Gotham City decided to mess with me. I can't really fathom why it's so important that Bruce save that city. I suppose I'm still a circus kid at heart, willing to pull up my stakes when the scene looks too rough. (I find that comforting, actually.)
Oh well, it's just for a week, and Dick will be there, too. And at the end of the week, we'll drive back to New York City. Just think positive.
It's not like I hate Bruce or anything. I never could. But I can and do hate Gotham City. The crime, the crazy people in it. I was a pretty normal kid, comparatively, before Gotham City decided to mess with me. I can't really fathom why it's so important that Bruce save that city. I suppose I'm still a circus kid at heart, willing to pull up my stakes when the scene looks too rough. (I find that comforting, actually.)
Oh well, it's just for a week, and Dick will be there, too. And at the end of the week, we'll drive back to New York City. Just think positive.