“How does it feel, Wayne, to stand on the very stones that ran your parents blood? Do you feel sad? Or does the roots of your stupid hero… Imprudent Batman… satisfies you?” I asked myself that day I finally looked past the fear and painful memories and went to the dark and gritty ally, where my mother and father were killed. To be honest, I can hardly remember, what ran trough my mind. Perhaps the mouth of the killers gun pointing at me. Or the pearls from my mother’s broke necklace jumping around. But I defiantly felt empty. First I was confused, then I started batting my finger, just so I could feel something. I had imagined, my eyes would be like waterfalls; that all those years of sorrow, hate and desire after revenge in the end would result in tears.
“Batman’s armour can’t stop the feelings to come out in some way, Bruce!” I said to myself. And Alfred kept saying, “Bruce, my dear boy, don’t live in the past. You have become a lonely man, don’t you see. No friends, no girls and what about Elly? She misses you! Oh, Bruce!” Elly is girl, who I played a lot with back in the days before… My parents’ death.
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