Twisted, But So In Love *The Joker*

The Life I Live

    My name is Jesse Pierce, most people don't know who I am exactly because I keep to myself in a sort of antisocial way.

   I suffer from severe anxiety and depression, but in a way those two contradict each other and it never ceases to confuse me.

   I lead a normal life, as normal of a life as I can living in Gotham city where numerous amounts of criminals have decided to put down their roots, including the infamous Joker who has been at war with the masked vigilante Batman for the past six months. I guess I don't mind living here, the one perk of having depression so badly is that I'm not afraid to die.

   I live by myself in a medium sized house that is much too big for me, I have ever since I turned nineteen.

   After I graduated high school at seventeen I didn't want to leave my parents to live with my two brothers.

   Even though they were older then me, they fought with each other nonstop, and on multiple occasions things were broken or innocent bystanders got hurt. Most of the time they fought about stupid things and I didn't want to leave my parents alone to deal with that.

   My family is what most would label to be 'broken,' one brother, Kyle, had always been a close minded prick who I'd never got along with and never particularly liked, the other, Sam, had always been into drugs.

   Sam was on probation and doing very well for about a year, when he overdosed on anxiety meds accidentally. That is when we started to break apart.

   I pushed off college and got a job to stay and help them with anything I could, but my mother was inconsolable and started to resent me, my father however never stopped loving having me for a daughter. I honestly could never understand why because I saw myself as a terrible person, and I still do.

   My parents moved away a year after I moved into what I now call my home, my father helped me pay for it along with using my whole college fund and every paycheck I worked for.

   Kyle moved in with his girlfriend and was never really sad about the death of his brother which I couldn't understand, I cut off all contact with him after that, now it's just me.

   At twenty-four I honestly think I'm crazy, ever since my mother told me I was, I thought that. I have anxiety about everything but I'm not afraid. I can't take living in my own skin, I hate everything about me. It would make sense to label me crazy...wouldn't it...?

   My past has been one big mistake, I have lost everyone and have no one. But I feel a drastic change coming, a change that is very much out of my control.