I hate you

2

Meet Jack Napier

Jackʼs pov

I walked quickly away from the bank I just robbed. Changing my clothes and washing off my makeup in a public bathroom, I put everything into my bag in risk.

Luckily there was no one around.

It's too much adrenaline for me lately. But I like it. Haha, I fucking like it. Killing rude people, hell yes.

Damn, how much I hate people. Today's society just steps on you. Or uses you and then spits you out like you're poison in their mouth. To find someone nice in this world let alone this city, is incredibly rare.

I sighed and put on my hoodie to hide my hair, the green color was slowly washing off. Pulling on a scarf around my mouth, I left the bathroom in hurry.

What should I do this night? I'm sleep deprived anyways. I can't do noticeable murders yet, they'll arrest me.

Ugh, my life is so boring.

When I was walking down the stairs, I heard a small, sudden sound of someone falling. I stopped and quickly looked at the person, to laugh at them or smile to myself at least.

But there was a cute guy, with dark brown hair, green eyes, and red cheeks, probably from embarrassment, who looked too innocent to be anyhow mean. His face was pale, like If he had some kind of makeup on himself before. He looked shy, and that stopped me from laughing, instead I felt bad for him.

Which is fucking weird. I caught myself staring at him, but naturally I'm being too socially awkward to help him up or approach him in any way, when I'm not in my Joker costume.

I continued walking away. Damn, I hope no one noticed me staring at this weirdo.

___

Arriving to my shithole apartment, I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew the brunette guy from somewhere..

In the news.

In the newspaper!

Oh, no. I remember I read those years ago, when I lived with my fucking toxic family.

Poor guy.

But whatever. I don't need to think about my family or random guys. I have more important things to do right now

And that's...

For example...

Nothing.

I flopped onto my mattress, turning on the TV. And that's basically my boring life. I wake up, I kill, I steal and go to sleep.

Maybe, just maybe.. Just a little bit in the back of my mind, I wish for a friend. I don't need relationships, meh, I can fuck whoever I want to anyways.

I never had friends. Everyone complained about my scars. They were scared of me. I tried to be nice, believe me. But no one ever accepted me.

And that's what later drove me insane. Just all of that. My father, the loneliness, the abuse.

I'm glad I made it to this point. I feel free. I finally feel free.

But something is still missing.