Pandemonium | joker fanfiction

Chapter 4

     Without thinking, I step towards the elevator, but someone holds me back. I spin around to see Mei gripping onto my arm stubbornly. She gives me an 'are you insane?' look.

     "What are you doing? You're not a hero Mara."

     I nod, my mouth suddenly dry. She's right. Why was I even attempting to follow the Joker?  I tell myself that yes, I started after him to be the hero, but my heart tells me something else.

And it scares the shit out of me.

     "C'mon, we need to get out of here," she urges and begins to pull me towards the staff room. I stumble behind her, my legs feeling weak.

     Everyone has begun to make a break for it, most likely to avoid the cops and reporters that will be here in a matter of minutes. I share their sentiment: I'd rather not be stuck here all night being interrogated.

     Mei leads me into the staff room and over to the lockers. I go to set down the tray I'm grasping and notice the joker card still rests on top of it. For reasons I don't understand, I tuck it into my shirt.

     "God, I can't believe he was so close...and he was right up in your face, that must have been terrifying," Mei says, shaking her head.

     "Yeah...terrifying," I breathe and grab my bag.

     "I thought he was going to hurt you...I was so scared," she says, her voice cracking.

     She squeezes her eyes shut and presses her palms into her eyes. I feel a pang of pity and wrap my arm around her awkwardly, the motion unfamiliar.

     "Hey, it's over, we're both okay," I whisper.

     "God, I should be the one comforting you! That freak didn't even threaten me and I'm almost in tears!" she exclaims and I flinch at the word 'freak'. It feels wrong even though I know it shouldn't.

"I'm really fine, I just want to go home," I sigh and stand up.

"Wait," she says pulling out a piece of paper and scrawling her number on it, "Just to stay in touch."

A warm feeling fills my core and a smile licks its way across my face.

"Thank you," I whisper and hope she knows I'm not just talking about her number.

"Anytime."

~~~

When I get home, my mom looks as though she's about to have a heart attack. Apparently, she saw the news.

"Mara! I was so worried!" she cries and locks me in an embrace. I crane away from her display of love. I know rejecting her kindness is rude, but I can't help it.

"Are you hurt?" she asks, stepping back to look me up and down.

"No, no, I'm fine," I respond quickly, "I just need some rest."

She stares at me for a second with a pitying gaze, and I kind of want to slap her in the face. Sometimes sympathy only makes me feel worse.

Finally, she nods and steps aside. I sigh in relief and head to the comfort of my room.

     "We're talking about this tomorrow!" she calls after me as I close my door.

I immediately flop onto my bed and groan. There are too many thoughts and feelings in my head that I don't have the energy to unpack. I breath in the scent of my sheets and calm washes over me.

Due to my family's minimal income, I've never had the luxury of new sheets. The same old off white bedding has occupied my room for as long as I can remember. However, unlike many other aspects of my life, I don't feel bitter about it. In fact, I enjoy the comfort of remembering the nights before wages were cut, back when my father tucked me into bed. Those nights were perhaps the best of my life, at a time when I didn't understand the full extent of our problems; before I started school and found out the other kids weren't asked to search for quarters on packed subway cars.

     I shift on the bed and feel the outline of the joker card against my skin. Sitting up, I pull it out and run my fingers over the smooth surface. I have to admit, it's one of the most beautifully disturbing joker cards I have ever laid eyes on.

And I got it from the joker himself.

I imagine him examining the card in a similar way to that I am now before sliding it into the pocket of his suit coat.

I'm filled with unexpected bliss. Then that bliss turns to alarm.

How can that thought possibly make me happy?

I hesitate for a second and then place the card face down on my desk.

~~~

I stare up into the dark abyss above me, studying the bumps of my popcorn ceiling. In the dark, they look like little ants crawling overhead, their black bodies mingling with one another as they cross paths. I wonder where they are going and why they are here in the first place. I accidentally gaze too long, and my eyes sting until I finally give in and blink.

     Sleep once again has decided to evade me. Every time I close my eyes, I can only see the joker's demented face leaning in close to mine. The memory should make my insides twist with disgust, but for some reason it doesn't.

On a sudden whim, I crawl out of bed and cross my room, picking up the joker card I received tonight from my desk. I don't understand why I feel so attached to an inanimate object.

Somehow, it seems special.

I stare at the card until it burns into my vision, a perfect snapshot in my mind. Finally, I slide back under my covers, card in hand, and begin to drift. I drift away to a life where I am happy. A life where I am free from all judgement and restrictions. A life full of unadulterated chaos. A life with only beautiful, raging fire. I drift to a life with a Glasgow smile and dark, black eyes. In this strange place, I don't feel fear, or disgust, or any of those negative emotions I should be feeling. Instead, I feel I belong.

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Author's Note:

I'm so sorry for the shorter filler chapter. I rewrote this so many times and debated on whether I should chuck it completely. However, I finally decided that it does hold enough importance to be published. Hopefully, you all agree.

I've also been feeling incredibly unmotivated lately and have had a severe case of writer's block :) Additionally, like every other author on this app, I'm going through some shit in my personal life. As they say,
what doesn't kill you, simply makes you stranger.

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