alibi2014

You can't know what it's like until you do it.  You can't know.  You can try to imagine it, if you want.  You can close your eyes and try to imagine the feeling.  You'll imagine it feeling powerful or scary or maybe just plain terrible.  But it doesn't feel any of those ways.  And you can try to imagine it all you want, but you can't know- you can't know- until you do it. You can't know what it's like to kill someone until you do it. I didn't mean to kill him.  I've lied since then, about where I was and what I was doing and what happened to my car afterwards.  What else am I supposed to do?  But honest to God, I didn't mean to kill him.  B

The part of the acrobatics routine Robin likes best isn’t when his name is announced.  It isn’t when he climbs up the ladder.  It isn’t even when he grabs hold of the beam and jumps into the air.  Robin’s favorite part of the acrobatics routine comes at the end, when he’s on the ground again, standing between his mommy and daddy.  It’s when he takes their hands and bows.  But it’s not because he cares about the applause or the flashing lights; it’s because for that split second that they’re folded over while bowing— folded like a birthday card, his mommy used to say— if he looks at his da

“Beast Boy, what are you doing?” There was a surprised gasp and a crash as Beast Boy fell off the chair he’d been standing on.  He scowled as he rubbed his head and looked over at his disrupter. “Man, Robin, don’t sneak up on me!  You almost gave me a heart attack!” “Sorry.”  Robin crossed over to where Beast Boy had fallen next to the floor-to-ceiling window, now framing a breathtaking view of Jump City at night, and offered him a hand.  As he pulled Beast Boy off the floor he asked, “What were you doing standing on the chair?  Is a light out?” Carefully climbing back onto the chair, Beas