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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...
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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?
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~Rebecca Albright
