An Introduction:
My name is Dick Grayson, and I have died.
Most of you know me as The Boy Wonder, the first Robin, Batman or Nightwing. Maybe you don't know. It's okay if you don't. I didn't even know until recently.
When I say I died, I don't mean my heart has stopped beating. What I meant was that for almost two years, a brother and I had a severe case of amnesia. I didn't even know my name, my family or why I was being kept in an asylum for the insane. So technically, if you think about it, Dick Grayson had died; his body left to a confused and lost child.
Those first few months were hell, and I thought maybe it was. That perhaps the nightmares that haunted my evenings were memories of the sins I had committed in life; that the doctors and nurses who killed, raped and tortured patients were demons, and that the man with the painted grin was the devil himself.
I had been right about it all, and it hurts to think about how optimistic I had been. Expecting to escape and return home to a loving mother and caring father, maybe even a family of my own. A normal life in sense. Not that I'm ungrateful to have returned home to Wayne Manor, but after realizing that my nightmares were in fact my reality, was horrible to say the least.
I don't wish it never happened though. During that time I learned more about myself than before, and amongst all those devils and monsters, there was one angel. I know, I know. It sounds corny and lame. But it's the truth. Even if he doesn't believe he's a hero, or anyone else for that matter. I know how much he sacrificed to help me escape, and that debt will never be settled. I only hope that if he's reading this that he understands he's made the right choice in leaving. I can't escape my old life like he could. We were given the chance to start over, but I couldn't.
I'm sorry.
With all my regrets,
Richard John Grayson.
Aka, your John Doe.