Honestly? I feel like shit. I'm sick, she flirts with him and he's been insulting himself. No matter how blue the sky is or how well the weather is, my heart is broken… I asked him if anyone could die of a broken heart. He said yes, suicide. Glad that we think the same *sniffle*. Oh well, so yeah, I promised this, didn't I? *Rams head against keyboard* Gah! I need him! *Tears fall* I need him… I need him… Three Days Grace, help me drown out my pain, even though I'd rather feel pain then nothing at all…

He wants to be an architect… (: He wants to build big tall houses and buildings… and I want to be a teacher… If I marry him, I hope that either we don't have kids or that our kids don't mind being left alone a lot… Meine Gott, I love him! ):

NEVER TOO LATE by Three Days Grace

This world will never be what I expected

Robin stared in horror at the wooden door in front of his face.

"I… I just… I didn't… why…?" his voice broke, as did he.

He turned around and pressed his door to the wood and slid down to the ground and hugged his knees to his chest. He leaned his head gently against the wooden door, fighting to keep his eyes clear. It wasn't working. He heard a door slam so hard that he could feel it. That broke him. That door broke him. Tears flooded from his eyes and he lay there for a moment, fighting to know what to do next.

I just… I… I can't stay here. I have to go. I'm only making things worse he decided.

He weakly got to his feet, grabbing a bag from his closet and looking around the room. He didn't want anything. None of it was his. He sniffed hard as his tears fell heavier. He stumbled across the room to a small photo album he had been keeping. It opened it to the last page, the family picture he had taken with Batman. In anger, he ripped it out of its case and tore it in half. He tore himself into fourths and set the broken picture onto the dresser top, standing there, heavy tears hitting it. He grabbed the picture of Batman and put it back, another broken memory to have.

He picked up the book and set it in the bag, turning around further. He grabbed a couple pairs of jeans, some hoodies and some t-shirts, as well as his favorite sunglasses. He pulled his suit out of the dresser he had it in and folded it, setting it on the bed. He set his mask on top, his tears hitting it gently. He scrambled through his drawers until he found a notepad and a pen.

Batman-

Thanks for nothing. Here's your STUPID suit back. Thought that you'd want it back. Thanks for ruining my childhood. You should've left me at the orphanage. At least there, I could've died with a lesser broken heart. The least you could've done for me is pretended as if you cared. That's what fathers are supposed to do, but you never were my father. I hate you. I HATE YOU.

-Richard Grayson

His hand trembled as he wrote it and heavy tears blurred the ink, but he set it on top of his mask anyway, his body convulsing violently beneath his sobs. They got louder and he found himself forced to his knees. He ripped the computer from his wrist and set that down too. He didn't need it anymore. He took the utility belt off too and emptied its contents. He pocketed some objects, grasping the batarang so tight in his fist that he drew blood, not that it mattered anyway. He grasped the bed sheets and forced himself back to his feet, only to collapse onto the bed next to his bag.

I have to run away. I have to… not that he'll care… Robin thought miserably.

He brought his hands up to support his head weakly.

You have to stop crying Richard… you have to stop crying. You have to leave, now.

He forced his breath to slow and he cleared his mind slowly until he was only aware of the sharp pain in his hand from the sharp edges of his batarang. He slipped his bag over his arm and walked over to the door and stared at it. Tears burned in his eyes, but he let them fall. He could still stand and that's all that mattered. He took the batarang and stabbed it deep into the wood of the door. He ripped the door open and walked down the hallway, passing Batman's now open door. He headed for the stairs, blood and tears dripping from his body. He walked down the steps, a slow pace to his walk. He passed by Alfred.

"Master Richard, where are you going?" Alfred asked, confused.

"I'm going. Goodbye Alfred," Robin choked out, his tears hard.

He felt a hand close down hard on his upper arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bruce Wayne's stone cold voice demanded to know.

"Anywhere but here," Richard growled, wrenching his arm from his former father's grasp.

"Robin, you can't," Bruce Wayne began.

"It's not Robin anymore. I'm Richard Grayson. I'm just an orphan boy who lost his parents in a freak circus accident," Richard snapped, his voice breaking as soft sobs took over his body again.

He began to walk again and opened the door to the house. He turned around one last final time.

"Goodbye Mr. Wayne. Thanks for your time," was all he said.

Bruce stared at him in shock, unable to grasp what was happening. Before he knew what was happening the front door was slammed and his baby boy was gone.

Yeah, I'm making it a chapter story. Why? Because I fucking can. Yes, I'm crying, hard. Not for the reason you're thinking though…

~I'm blue… dabba dee, dabba die…~