The Diary of Damian Wayne

Wednesday, June 17

I woke up this morning unable to remember if I had written anything yesterday. When I read what I had written, I felt massively embarrassed.
I suppose what I wrote was Damian Wayne without a filter. Even when I write in this journal, I still heavily censor my thoughts. I almost never let anyone see what I am truly thinking, and I suppose that goes for writing as well. I think instead of writing one interesting fact about myself each day, I will merely try to write one uncensored thing each day.
I'm laying in bed right now, and the starlight filters in through my windows. The day was cool and pleasant, which is unusual this late in June.
I finished a book yesterday. It is part of a series that is full of adventure and magic and near escapes. I still have most of the series to read though.
I walked down to the stables today to see our horses. Being unable to ride is one of the worst parts of being injured like this. Father and Pennyworth haven't told me I can't ride, but I know I shouldn't. The jolting gait of a horse would just make my three cracked ribs and fractured arm hurt terribly.
This morning I took a walk down to the river. It was still early and quiet outside, with the pale dawn light streaking the sky. The last few stars hung gently in the sky.
When I made it to the river, I stepped out onto a large rock that sits in the middle if the water. That rock is one of the places I go if I need to think.
After spending an hour there, I walked over to the Wayne Family Cemetery. The sun had just begun to rise in the east.
The stone rows that listed the deceased stood sentinel to the sunrise. 
I walked among the rows of headstones and continued to think.
When I came back to the Manor, I had made up my mind. Father was in bed, and Alfred was out in the West Rose Garden. I had the perfect time to complete my plan.
I had been pondering this for a while now. These injuries would have me incapacitated for weeks. I can't be laid up for that long. I had to fix it.
I made my way upstairs, and drew a bath for myself. The slightly warm water was the perfect temperature for what I was about to do.
I walked back into my room and opened the safe that's under one of the floor boards. And I pulled out a bottle full of a glowing green liquid.
Water from a Lazarus Pit.
The Lazarus Pit was a something my mother and grandfather had kept a tight secret from the world. It contained a water that would heal any wound, injury, or sickness. Regular baths in it could even delay death. My grandfather used it for that, and he lived over 1,000 years.
Jason Todd had given it to me a while back. He stole the water from my Mother and Grandfather, to keep for himself. But once my mother and grandfather died, Jason gave me the stolen water.
His exact words to me were, "I guess this water really belongs to you. Use it when you need it."
I have never used any of it until a few hours ago.
Since the Lazarus Pit was sealed up now, I have to be sparing with the water. I took the bottle into the bathroom, and poured a small amount into the bathwater. It turned the bathwater a faint green color.
I stripped off my clothes, and slowly lowered myself into the water.
My body began to tingle, and the wounds on my body felt as though they were being disinfected.
Deeper inside my body, I could feel my broken bones begin to heal. That part hurt tremendously.
Once the healing was done, I climbed out of the water and inspected myself.
The wounds were gone. I didn't need an X-Ray to know my bones were completely healed.

I am waiting here now until Father leaves for patrol. Once he is gone, then I will go out too. Robin is back. I will go out tonight to find the Meringio family. They will pay.

I suppose my one uncensored thought that I will let myself have is

Is

It is hard to be completely honest with myself.

I wasn't sure if the amount of Lazarus Pit water I used today would heal me completely or not.

Rereading that sentence is hard.

That is all.
Damian Wayne