A/N: this is similar to the other chapters: "Depression" & "Who am I really?"
This chapter is all about Jason, his thoughts, POV and feelings.

I'm all alone.

I don't matter, I don't matter to anyone. I thought they cared about me but I was wrong.
My death...my life has no meaning whatsoever.

I'm a mess. Everything is a mess.
I've failed me.

I thought that I was loved, cared about. That those I came to call 'family' actually cared about me and saw me as family too, but I guess I'm wrong.

Me dying meant nothing to Alfred, to Dick and especially not to Bruce.
All I've ever wanted to do was to make him...them proud but I failed.

I failed at everything.
I'm a failure.

When did I lose myself?

I feel so lost, sightless, worthless. I don't know where to go, I don't know what to do. I have no one....I have nothing! Nothing makes any sense, I...I don't understand.

I am so lost.
So lost and alone.

I thought he cared. That Bruce saw something in me worth saving, worth fighting for, worth caring about but I was...am wrong.
He never cared.
I'm just a stray he picked up and most likely regretted the moment he did.

That's what I am...a regret.

I've lost who I am and I can't begin to understand, to make sense out of any of this.
This hurts so much, my heart is broken as is my mind. It fills me with rage.

I hate him! I hate then!
WHY?

Why don't they care? Why do I not matter? Why was I...am I not good enough for him...for anyone?
How could I be replaced so easily, did I truly not matter.

I'm shattered.

My whole world...my whole life is a lie and it's all clear now.
They never cared, they never saw me.

I'm unworthy of being loved or cared about.

I have no place where I belong. I'm a waste. I am nothing.

I guess I'm the screw up, the failure Robin, the disgrace. I'm all alone.
I've always been alone because he never truly cared. I've always been alone, the outcast.
I have never been good enough to him, for Alfred and Dick, for anyone, or for...myself.

I'm so angry I can't see. I can't make any logic out of all of this.
How can't someone matter?
How can no one care?

They were everything to me! He was....my dad. Or at least I thought he was. But I suppose I was never his son.

I trusted him! I trusted him so much, I trusted him more than I've ever trusted anyone and he didn't care. He let me die because, I...was...nothing to him. I didn't and still don't matter. So what's the point of this? What's the point of going on, what's the point of living anymore?

I'm unwanted, unseen, unheard, and it hurts.
It hurts so bad.

There is so much pain in the world in me, I feel like I am drowning and in a total lost of control.

I can't believe how insignificant I am to the world, to him and to myself.

I am so hopeless, so lost, so broken,
so sad and....

done.

Because I don't matter.

Because I'm insignificant.