I just got back from my first patrol. No one knows that I was gone.
The adrenaline is still frothing inside of me. Last night was very, shall we say, productive.
I blew up the Meringio family's warehouse.
I used enough C-4 to blow up a container ship.
Everything they had in there is gone. Money, drugs, weapons. It's all gone. I single handedly derailed the Meringio family's entire industry.
Wait. Someone's coming.
Father was entirely unfair. He came storming into my room, demanding to know why I went out last night if I was so severely injured.
So I told him how I used water from the Lazarus Pit to heal myself.
He looked ready to kill me.
Father confiscated my bottle of water from the Lazarus Pit, and said, "This is mine right now. You can have this back when you decide to stop BLOWING UP WAREHOUSES!".
Father also took away my privilege to ride horses for two weeks. He said he would've taken me off of patrol, if he didn't need me so badly in the missions.
Things have only gotten worse in Gotham, and Father can't afford to lose any help.
Still, he is being entirely unfair. Why doesn't he just see that I helped him out tremendously. The Meringio family will take months to recover from that blow. Why is he always like this? It is just so frustrating.
I just got text message from Jason Todd. He said, "Nice job last night. I see you take after me now."
I know that Todd sent that merely to infuriate me more, but I don't care. I will never be Red Hood. Never.
This entire debacle is maddening.
I am too upset to give one censored thought today.
That is all.
Damian Wayne
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The Diary of Damian Wayne
FanfictionThis is less of a story, and more of a first hand account of the life of Damian Wayne. This is his journal, as it is his story. It holds the highs and lows of his thoughts, as well as his daily whereabouts. There is no language or adult content, ju...
