Date: March 6, 1998

Dear Diary,

Today was uneventful. I got my laundry done in record time and had started the dishes. I really hate the dishes. I can't believe it's been a month that I returned to my house. But Crane is back in Arkham and I've had some updates from Gotham's finest. I put up the pictures my mom took when I testified and I even hung up the article Gotham Times printed about me.

I really should get back to doing my dishes. Did I mention I hate the dishes? Duncan seems to be acting weird all of a sudden. He keeps scratching at my back door. I bet it's my new neighbor's cat again...

I feel… bad and… scared.

There's blood on these pages now.

I tried to stop them. I tried to stop them. I even hit him with my cane! The tall goon in the glasses slapped my face and I fell to the floor. Duncan went crazy and I seen him lung for the man and I heard the gun go off before I seen it.

Duncan yelped and was silent. My hands were on my face and all I could say was oh my god. As I crawled over to my dog I heard the tall man say something about the same thing happening to me if I didn't cooperate. But all I could see was my poor Duncan, my one true friend dying in a pool of his own blood. Blood that was on my hands, on my legs, and staining my dress.

The fat short one came towards me then. He pulled out a chain and wrapped it around my neck. He wanted me to retract my statement and say I lied. Say that Batman put me up to putting the Scarecrow behind bars.

I told them to go to hell as I kicked him in his balls.

The fat man buckled but didn't lose his grip. Instead he tightened it and the last thing I could remember was seeing Crane standing staring down at me in that ridiculous costume of his.

I hate Jonathan Crane.

I'm writing this so I don't forget. I am going to need to get a hold of Batman. I'm going to need to bury my dog. I am going to need a change of clothes and a shower.

My kitchen is a mess.

My dishes are all over the floor.

Did I mention I hate Jonathan Crane?

~Rebecca Albright