I don’t know who I am without my badge. It’s all I’ve known for twenty years. It’s my purpose, my identity. My badge was my connection to Bruno, to being someone, being needed. Being important.
What am I, if I’m not a cop?
When Bruno took me off the streets, he promised my life in the National Police would save me. I’m beginning to understand what he meant. That badge saved me, alright—from myself. It pulled me out of the dark. Gave me to the world.
What happens now? What if they take it away for good?
I can’t believe how lost I feel. What’s wrong with me? I’m the same guy, aren’t I? I just don’t have the credentials, that’s all. That’s nothing.
No, it’s everything.
“A man who is useful can never be cast aside,” Bruno used to say. He knew what that badge meant to a man.
I'm glad Bruno didn't live to see this.
