CHAPTER TWO—EDIT

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I'd be lying if I told you that I was overjoyed the day I found out I was pregnant.

You see, only a month before, Jack had disappeared—he was gone, along with some of his things—and there was no note or anything to ease my worries.

Something dreadful washed over me. It must've been about midday, I think.

I got on a train with the hope of being uplifted—even though there was nothing even remotely happy about the dreary station. I was watching a lady with a young girl—her daughter, I guessed.

"Mum, I don't think you can drink alcohol on the train." I heard.

The woman took another swig of her Jim Beam and coke.

"See mum, up there it says, 'No Alcohol'", I looked up and saw the sign the girl was pointing to—she was right.

"Well, I don't think anyone is gonna take away my beer. And if someone comes I'll just throw it out the window." The woman replied, not removing the drink from her lips.

"But these windows don't open."—The girl.

"Look! No one is gonna come along. The only problem is if some Christian Librarian turns me in. So...don't..." The lady noticed some Mediterranean looking men whom I hadn't seen, she shouted at them.

"What the fuck are you saying? It's rude to talk about people in other languages. If you want to say something, say it to my face."

I didn't turn to see the men, but I didn't hear them say anything either.

"Mum what are they saying?" Piped the girl.

"They are being fucking rude." She replied, directing the 'fucking' towards the men. She then finished her can and threw it to the ground. I watched the girl look up to the 'No Littering' sign, but she didn't say anything. Neither did I...until later when I found out I was about a month pregnant.


He's a good kid, my son—Klaus Napier—there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him, within reason, of course!

I think that stems not only from the fact that I'm his mother, but because when he was born I felt a twinge of pity for him. He is so, so much like his father...and I just thank whatever higher power out there that he is like me as well. I couldn't live with myself if I watched my own son slowly descend into the same pit of fire that his dad dug up and fell into years ago.

Let me take you back a couple of years, back to when I came to Gotham...back to when I met Jack again.

"Mama, who would win in a fight. A lion or a bear?" The curious little voice of a 5-year-old Klaus asked me. We were at home—a comfortable little apartment on the nicer side of Gotham, eating pasta and talking nonsense.

"Hmm, I'm not too sure, love...maybe a lion." I answered, putting my dish in the sink and grabbing a sponge to wipe up the glorious mess Klaus managed to make with a small bowl of pasta and sauce.

"But why the lion? Isn't a bear just as strong as a lion, Ma?" He said.

"Oh I bet he is! Who do you think would win, Klaus?" I asked him, smiling at his inquisitiveness.

"Um...I think the bear will win!" He exclaimed, bouncing on his chair—just like his father would do when he was excited.

"Mama, can we get a pet bear?"

I laughed, "Klaus, bear aren't allowed to be pets...especially not here. We wouldn't be able to take proper care of him." I said, looking over at him.

"Oh." He said, slumping a little as he pouted his lip.

"But, we might be able to get a dog." I added, grinning as he perked up again.

By the time I had put Klaus to bed, I had become lost in my thoughts. Looking at the little boy who resembled his father so much...it seemed these days my thoughts only seemed to consist of Jack—which would only depress me as I came into the habit of torturing myself with wondering and asking questions. You know the kind, "What if...?".

Everyone seems to have this obsession with infinity. Everything and everyone has to last forever. I don't understand it. Paintings are kept behind bullet proof glass and last forever. They last longer than anyone who ever thought to consider it a piece of art. Animals are stuffed and stuck on a wall in sick, unnatural screams of death, forever frozen. People hold up fossils of sea creatures in fascination, saying how amazing it is to think that it is a million years old. But all I can think is: it's just a shitty old rock, maybe a million years ago it was something special but now it's not. We want everything to last but nothing does—we can't be hoarders—everything changes from breath to breath, you can't hold onto anything and expect it to keep you afloat. Even anything that is a part of you will grow and change. To try and make something last for eternity is to kill and change it.


When I came back to Gotham about a year or two ago, I arrived with a strange sense of foreboding. In all honesty I don't even know why I came back...I had never liked Gotham city. The gloomy, dark depressing state of it combined with the crime rate made me constantly question my decision. Personally, I preferred the quiet countryside I grew up in. With the woods, mountains, the lake—nature—but I suppose I felt a pull...back towards Gotham.

There are times that I can think back to. There are places that I remember, people too. But it's all the past. I don't think back with any emotion other than sorrow now. Things I thought I knew, I realise now I never did. I can think of love as something I never really knew, to try and fool myself. Love doesn't die, love doesn't change. Love is never remembered with regret. There is so much I know I will never understand.

In this day now, today, I see the children in the park. It's a park with wide open grass, lined with tall trees that first sprouted in a different time. Klaus and these kids dressed by their parents in bright glowing colours

I watch them play. There is a group of mothers watching them too. This whole group is secure. I can see how easy it is for them to all help and support each other, but how hard it would be to join this group to get help. Emotional or physical—even though I mean emotional. People grow and mature collectively. The people who raise you to turn into them. People are effected by their surroundings, and the best surroundings are good people.

I should've seen what would become of Jack. I should've known. You can't change a person no matter how hard you try.

I am the sum of all the people I've ever met, that's what makes me an individual.

These young boys and girls playing now, will be there for each other in years to come. Some for better and some for worse. And it sickens me to know that no matter what he does, there will always be that small part of Klaus that will remain an outcast. I cannot change that. I cannot change who I am. I cannot change who I have become. Only if I were to go back to the beginning of it all could I then make a difference. But if I was to start it all from scratch I would not try to help myself, but someone else. Give them a chance. The only sort of help I can do in my life at the moment is through Klaus...or my job—though help could be confused with destruction.

I see this, kids playing and I think of that old saying, 'the children are our future'. It's wrong, it's getting it the wrong way around, we create our children's future. We are our children's future. There is so much I don't know or understand. To know this makes me stronger.


"WILL THE BATMAN REVEAL HIMSELF FOR GOTHAM?"

I scoffed at the newspaper. Turning the page to read something other than how amazing Harvey Dent was, or who Batman was, or if The Joker was ever going to be stopped—and how terrible he was. News these days had turned into crap. I wanted to read something else, something that didn't tell me about all the bad shit happening in the world—or skiing squirrels. That always seemed to annoy me. Why is it that every time something awful happens, the news will be there to cover the story—yet do nothing to help?

By this stage I've stopped looking at the world around me. I can't think about anything I know or knew without being a little biased. So I'm looking at the big picture, I'm trying to see some reason. I kept my eyes open for good today. I saw smiles and families. I saw lovers in arms and friends in groups. At McDonald's there was a child's birthday party. And I did see the smiles of children. It seemed untainted and innocent, or ignorant maybe. I saw joy on a corner. At a bus-stop waited happiness. Through a door walked forgiveness and out walked love. I saw this when I looked hard enough, but it didn't fool me. It seemed fake, unreal, a false viewing, an illusion of tranquility. I wanted to know that goodness was there. That something out there cared. I wanted some sort of faith. But I don't think you can gain faith if you lack it.

How am I supposed to believe when I don't even believe in myself. I'm more scared that there is something out there than worried there isn't. What good faith has ever come from us in the name of something bigger than an individual human. Faith is against truth. I don't hold stock in it, I'd want to know if someone is my creator so I can actually hate them rather than question their existence.

The same people were on the steps of the station that I''d seen before. That I'd seen many times before. With their smiles, luring you in like salesmen. I once asked a man why he came here with his messages and voice. He told me that is was God's will, that he had no choice but to send out God's message. He said he didn't do it for himself, he didn't do it for the people he spoke to either, he did it for God.

I asked him what he got in return.

I walked to a nearby park and sat on the grass, watching the clouds float by. Klaus was at school and I was trying to slow my thoughts down. People actually thought that by having Batman show his true identity that the Joker would stop his reign of chaos? What would a world of chaos prove anyhow? A person needs to have some level of self-control. Just because we can do something, doesn't mean we have to.

Sitting up I looked at the time...2:46PM—I had to go and pick up Klaus from school, and then what? I had been invited to Harvey Dent's fundraiser party tonight.

Inwardly I groaned and mentally thanked Bruce Wayne. I sighed, not entirely sure why I was going to this—I wasn't one of Gotham's "Crème de la crème"—but I figured that since I owed Bruce a favour, I would go...he'd just have to deal with the fact that I couldn't find a babysitter in time.


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