ByJohn William, writer at Creators.co

"I came into this world kicking and screaming while covered in someone elses blood and I have no problem with going out the same way." I was born into a mediocre family. I had a brother, a "father", a mother, a mother, a mother, and you get the idea. My father is- was a drunkard. My real mother died of "natural causes" when I was a small child. I grew up raised by a lazy, brutal bastard of a brother. I learned how to live my life. I learned that if you want something, you take it, and if someone does you wrong, it's only fair that you do something about it.

My family was the poorest, least cared about family in the city, but you could say that about every family in Gotham... Except the Waynes. The Wayne's always had everything: money, a mansion, a million dollar company and a loving baby. Bruce never had to do anything for himself. I had to take what I needed, I needed to break open the ATM and stick up the mini- mart. But I'll never "look up" to Bruce Wayne. He's a little brat who has everything go his way.

"Hey, let's go bro. This is your final test. You'll have to rob this mini-mart of the items on this list, then hack the ATM. The hitch is that you can't get the cops here as you're here. Got it?" My brother passed me the list. "I hope you got it. Dad's already beaten me four times this week, I don't need another." He continued.

"I got it. Get the... Beer, cigs, lottery tickets, and money. Obviously. Then go for the ATM. I'll mask up and get going." I started walking away as my brother grabbed my arm.

"Yo, take my mask. You've earned it." He tossed me his red mask and nodded at me.

"Thanks Jerry." I slowly opened the door and snuck around to the back. I looted a couple of bottles of booze and a pack of cigarettes. I put on my mask and pulled out my pistol. I turned on the woman at the desk.

"In the satchel man." I demanded. He stood there confused. "Put-o the money-o in the-o satchel-o!" I thought that he wasn't understanding, but that was when I realized that he had pressed the emergency button. Sirens blared.

"Shit." I murmured. I shot the man at the desk and rifled through the register. I tripped my way out the sliding door and stumbled over to Jerry.

"What the hell did you do Jacky? The pokey is all over us! Have I taught you nothing?!" Jerry scolded under his breath.

"I didn't notice that he pushed the button!... We gotta get outta here!"

"... I'll create a distraction. Gimme my mask." I passed Jerry his mask and watched as he hopped the car and started screaming. I bolted towards home. As I ran I heard gunshots and Jerry screaming in pain. I didn't look back. That was one of his main rules. Never linger on the past, it might get you hurt.

I got home ten minutes later to walk in on the television. The news was on showing a robbery. The culprit: a man in a red mask. The man was confirmed dead after murdering an attendant. My father turned around and observed the blood on my face, the satchel of money and the lack of my brother.

"You get me my... *Burp* Beer?" He groaned.

"Yeah dad." I handed him two bottles of beer and a pack of cigarettes and wandered upstairs.

"Only two? Damn. You've gotten cheap." He murmured as he spilled beer on his shirt.

"You've-..." I gave up because I knew the consequences. I didn't care anyways. Now that my brother was dead I didn't really care about anything.

I heard footsteps sand the sound of breaking glass.

"You owe me two bottles now!" My father belched. He stumbled into my room and pulled out his belt. "You know the drill."

I sat there, thinking about Jerry, ignoring my father's threats.

"Did I stutter kid? Get on the f***** ground! You owe me a bottle of whiskey!" My father blared.

"I owe you nothing!" I lashed. He stood there dazed. "Did I stutter?!" He moved on me, winding up a punch. I grabbed a pocket knife from my desk a cut a gash up his arm. He wailed in pain.

"You'll regret that kid." He muttered. He back- handed me and I dropped my knife. "Where'd you get this? Your deadbeat brother? Well he's not here anymore!" He bent over me, showing off my knife. "I know what I'll do to you... Yes! Why don't you put a smile on that face?" He leaned in as if to cut my face, but I threw him off of me and I dashed out of my room, barely snagging my satchel. I bolted down the street, not realizing that the store was just down that way. The lights blinded me and the voices of cops rang in my ears.

"Kid, did you see what happened here?" One cop asked. Reluctantly I ran away, dropping my satchel. "Hey kid you-" he searched through the pack and found the money and beers. "Get that kid! It's the real thief!" The cop blared through the megaphone.

I nearly avoided the taser blast. Everything went black.

"Wake up... Wake up kid! Hey, he's coming to. Hey, how you feelin'?" A man's voice asked.

My eyes stung and my arms felt numb. My hand were cuffed to the table and a man stood across from me. I grunted groggily.

"What were you doing robbin' that store kid? You paying the bills? You paying for drugs? You in a cartel, what?" The man demanded.

Something in my mind snapped. I always knew that my brother knew the right way of life, but I realized a new side to it. No one knows how I feel. If they knew, they wouldn't arrest me. If they knew, they wouldn't look down on me. And if I could find people like me, I could have an army... An army of the smartest men on earth.

"What was I doing there you ask? I was getting my drunkard father his poison, and killing my brother. I was there to get caught, get tased and get my money taken away. But mostly I did it to talk to you. You have helped me realize that I have to take a joke. I am a joke, you are a joke. What do you do? Do you have kids?" I asked.

"I'm not married. I live in an apartment... But I have money, I can pay rent and for cable."

"You see? That's the joke. You 'earn' money. How did you earn that? You asked men why they did it, and scheduled a lunch. I on the other hand, got that money on my own, I took it with my skill. I learned how to live my life. You want something? You take it. So yes! I did do it! Lock me in the brig. AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!" And that was the first day of the rest of my life.

"You're dead meat." A prisoner murmured.

"You'll never make it twig!" Another shouted.

They showed me to my cell and I sat gingerly.

"Oh thank you Mr... Parker! I feel right at home!"

Right at the end of my sentence I decided to start a riot. I punched this big guy, he called himself bane. The scuffle blossomed an all out free for all. In the commotion I tried to break out with a few hundred friends. They caught us on the way up the wall and I was out in solitude. Some say that I lost my mind in there. I would disagree! I say i found it there. I realized that I was to much like the others. I decided to 'transform' myself. I cut open my mouth as to keep the joke going and cover my face with dust to 'differentiate' myself. It did take me a while to get the green hair dye though. I had to have it broken in.

Fifteen years I laid in that jail. I certainly thought about life. I devised a plan for once I got out. I was going to make chaos. Oh, such beautiful chaos.

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