Hi people! So your probably wondering what his chapter is. Well this chapter hopefully is a solution. I was beginning to see that Jason was getting no love, no one cared for his character much and he was just, there. Even my friends thought that too, so I had to figure out a way to add to his character and make people feel for him without completely redoing this story. This was my solution to the problem, I hope it works.

The memoirs of Jason Wilde Todd: Volume One

Jason went into his room after another long day of training. He was very much looking forward to tomorrow when his friends would be here. It was the only time of the week he allowed himself to unwind and relax. But for now Jason went over to his desk, and sat down. Reaching into the inside left pocket of his dark tan cargo jacket he pulled his journal out.

This journal was were he recorded all of his thoughts and such, scribbles, anything really that came to mind when he opened it and picked up his ballpoint pen. The journal was an idea that the institution for kits with autism that he attended for a small time recommended. They had made some speech about how the journal was supposed to help them come out of their shells or some shit. Well….he supposed he was true in some degree, it did help him express things he never could in his head or in his speaking. But still, he found it ridiculous…..but also couldn't and won't stop writing in them.

This was his second journal, the first had been some simple small one that the institution had given him. Since he had been younger at the time his first journal was filled with mostly gibberish and scribbles, his simple basic thoughts of that particular day and such. His handwriting and drawings were also just terrible as it was before he learned calligraphy.

That first journal was nothing more than a fond memory collecting dust on a shelf now. It wasn't worth adding to his memoirs. That's what he decided these journals would be, The Memoirs of Jason Wilde Todd, he figured that with a story as unique as his would make a good read. So, he decided that after his death these journals would be sent to someone close to him for them to be published. Jason had a feeling after all his life was going to be an interesting one.

The journal was a decent size with three hundred pages and bond in dark brown cork leather to protect it from the elements, and it looked cool as an added bonus. Undoing the latch of the journal Jason opened it and began to flip through the pages. Because he learned calligraphy his handwriting was super neat and the use of a ballpoint pen made the writing look rich and clean. He made sure to date every entry he made, some entries taking up only a few lines while some could take up a few pages. He also sometimes drew pictures, illustrations really. He was no artist by any means, but you could still clearly tell what the image was.

Jason took this journal with him wherever he went, if a particular moment was vibrant enough or there was something he wanted to draw. It was rare that he would pull he journal put in public, but whenever he did it was almost always to draw something. He stopped flicking through the pages though when he came across his favorite illustration, his mother in a botanical garden bending down to sniff some violets.

Jason gave a soft smile to the image before flipping to a new page, the prior one having been filled. Picking up his pen he leaned down and began to write.

April 15th 2008

"Often times I find myself reminiscing on just how important this journal has become in my life, even now as I sit down to make another entry. My thoughts here are so much more…clearer when I decide to write in it. My thoughts and speech are so…basic. But in here, it's like everything I should think and want to say comes pouring out. I think that's why I rely on this thing so much.

Yet, heh at the same time I despise this cursed thing BECAUSE I need it to properly express myself. Which is made worse by the fact that I won't show this to anyone, so no one else sees truly what goes on in my mind…My face is blank… my eyes, so everyone says, lifeless..though I am beginning to see what they see as well as the years pass by. My body, including my tail, doesn't react either. Not a twitch of the ear or a wag of the tail.

I don't properly feel emotions, even still. I act like I do, because if I don't it worries my mother and makes her sad…and she has enough on her plate right now. It also makes my friends happy, and that's something I love to see. So I pretend I know what happy is, and that I'm it….it's not that I'm depressed or anything, or maybe I am…I WOULDN'T KNOW.

All I know how to do is act like I'm normal. Act like I know emotions. I know the concept of emotions! Yes that I know. I know I'm supposed to feel them and which ones go with which situation…but I still don't feel them. I act like I do to please those around me, and then pretend that pleases myself…and I think it does…if only a little bit.

I am starting to not feel anything properly either, because why the hell would I? I still feel no pain, which is one I can't complain about. But the rest…I can barely feel a brush on my arm from a friend getting my attention…. I can barely feel an embrace from my mother…. I can barely feel a breeze as it trickles through my fur…. I can barely feel the rain as it falls on my face when I look to the sky wondering if god or the gods will strike me down with a bolt of lightning…because with the way they or he made me….they or he don't like me very much.

I often question his or their existence, as seen in previous pages of this journal. Because if I am made by them…why make me like this? Why make me a freak? For their own enjoyment? Because that's the only reason I can think of…and if that's the case, I hope you're having fun you sadistic fuck or fucks."

There, I hope this works. Tell me what y'all think I'm eager for the feedback. I hope this makes y'all feel for Jason and show him some love.

Until next time.