“I have been to too many funerals.”
One night, on the way home from the theatre, the last of the Wayne family died, leaving no survivors. The boy who used to be Bruce saw a cowardly nobody extinguish hope and happiness with a single gunshot. What he saw at the age of eight branded him and shaped him for the rest of his life future. To him, that’s what a gun can do. Whether aimed to kill or even terrify (as the mugger might have intended), it ends the world. To him, that is what murder is: having the right to cut short someone else’s everything. To decide in a single moment that the other person has nothing more left to give this world, that the culmination of their past decides who they will continue to be. To kill another person is to decide for them that they don’t deserve hope and happiness.