A/N: Okay, just to get this clear, bold author's notes are me, Rose the ninja, and italics are Katie the Troll. We also sign our names at the end of our stories.

Now that I've cleared that up, this story is a crack fic (if I understand the term correctly) that I thougt of a few (I'd say about 6) hours ago, wrote, then typed. I don't know what gave me this idea, but I just all the sudden had a lightbulb :3 RIP, those who died in the Newtown shooting…

Updates 01/04/13: One, I added "Dick's POV" to the beginning of this chapter. And two, I added the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All rights to their respective owners.

-Monster Not Man-

Dick's POV:

I walked through the manor door, having walked home from school. Today was Friday. It was Friday, December fourteenth, 2012, to be exact. I threw my blazer down and ran to the kitchen, grabbing a couple of Alfred's cookies and a glass of milk to snack on while I did my homework. I picked up my backpack, grabbed my snack, and rushed up the main stairway. When I finally got to my room I set my snack on my desk, throw down my heavy bag, then sit at my desk without looking.

"Ow," I say, having sat on something.

I hear my TV come on as I stand up to find my TV remote where I was sitting.

"—Connecticut shooting killed 28 people. 20 of the fatalities were children between the ages of 5-10, one of the victims his own mother, and one of them the gunman himself, who committed suicide."

I hear the news lady say, but they had me at shooting.

"Sandy Hook is the second worst school shooting in U.S. history, the first being the 2007 Virginia Tech massacre."

She announces as I stare in horror, my jaw slack, at the screen.

The news lady continues. "The vehicle the suspect drove to Sandy Hook was registered to his mother, and three guns were found. A Glock and a Sig Sauer, pistols, which were found inside the school, and a .233-caliber rifle was found in the back of the car. Within minutes of a 911 call, the police a arrived, the call having been placed shortly after—"

"Master Dick, how often must I remind you to put your blazer in—" Alfred starts, breaking me from my trance.

"Huh?" I interrupt, looking away from the TV.

"Master Dick, you left your blazer on the floor again. What is on the news that you find so intriguing?"

"Sorry 'bout that, Alfie. In Connecticut this ma- uh, monster, shot and killed 27 people not including himself. Twenty of them were kids and one of them was his mom," I explain to Alfred, hatred for this man slowly building.

"Oh my."

"Yeah," I clench my fist, "The guy's dead, though. He committed suicide," I reply, trying to wrap my mind around the factmthat someone would kill innocent children and his own mom.

Alfred must have sensed that I wanted to be alone and walked out, silently, and closed the door behind him.

"That isn't right," I say, talking to myself, "Guns should be illegal after all the trouble they cause!"

I throw myself on my bed and look at the ceiling. It's the same bed and ceiling I've known for about five years. As I lay down I can imagine kids, some as young as five, hiding in closets and cabinets, fear written all over their face as they hear gunshots coming from the hall. Then the monster walks into one of the unlucky classrooms, shooting the teacher. Then he turns around, silently, and looks a frightened child in the eyes. Without a word, the psycho pulls the trigger, ending the innocent six year olds life. He repeats it again, a child's life in this monster's hand. Another shot is made, another innocent life takes. He goes on until 18 kids are no longer breathing. Two of the kids die later. Twenty children will never have another Christmas, another birthday; they won't get what they wanted from Santa. Twenty kids will never graduate, will never find true love, will never have kids of their own someday. Twenty kids… all because off a psycho with a gun.

I sit up, wipe away the tears I didn't know I shed, and then remember that Friday is training with BC at Mount Justice. I check the time, seeing that I'm already almost ten minutes late

"Dinah's going to kill me," I say without enthusiasm.

I get up to get dressed into my civvies, but stop and look at my TV, realizing it's still on. I grab my remote to turn it off.

"Rest in peace, those who died in the Newtown shooting," I whisper, facing the screen, before turning it off.

I turn around and sigh, looking at the ground and holing back more tears, "I couldn't save them either…" I say to myself as I get ready for training, "I'm sorry."

-RoseTheNinja-

How was it? I hope it wasn't too sad. I started crying while writing this. That man was a monster if he could look a scared kid- no, baby, in the eye and shoot him/her. I wish I really was Batgirl or Robin so l could have saved them. They are kids, they shouldn't have had to see that! Pray for Newtown!

I was going to make it longer, then I was going to stop after he whispers, but I decided to stop here. Should I maybe do another chapter in someone else's POV or leave it here?

If you have anything to say, please comment or PM me :)

-Rose