No one believed me. They all said I was I was lying or just imagined it. But I knew I wasn't. I knew that those men had killed my parents. They all said that it was an accident, that it couldn't have been prevented. But I knew I could have stopped it from happening. And I knew that it was my fault that my parents died. But still nobody believed me.
Except for one person. Bruce Wayne was his name, and he was the only one who really knew how I felt. He said that his parents had been killed too, by some guy named the Joker. He promised to help me in any way he could. And he did. He took me in as his child. And he became my adopted father. He wasn't often the best father, such as when he locked himself in his room for days on end, but sometimes I really knew that he cared about me. I'm talking about the special times. The times when he would play one-on-one basketball with me, or the time when he taught me how to ride my motorcycle, but I'm also talking about the most important moment, the day he told me he was Batman. And he let me be his sidekick. Those were the moments that I knew he loved me more than my adopted siblings. Those were my favorite times.
But even with the love he showed me, I still had a difficult life with my family. My adopted sibling weren't very kind to me. They knew I was Bruce's favorite, and they resented me for it. Not all of them of course. Barbara wasn't that bad, actually, she was my closest friend. But the worst was Jason Todd. He couldn't stand it knowing that the one person who cared about him cared about someone else more. He was jealous of me, and his jealous soon turned to hate. I became his least favorite person in the world, but sometimes you could still see the pain and hurt he was in. And I still see it today when he shows his good side while wearing the outfit of a criminal known as Red X.