Okay this chapter is slightly stupid and rushed, but it needed to be done to get the story into action. The rest should be better.
Love ya!
<3 Tess
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I woke up in a pool of sweat and a painful body. The lights were on, but I was in a different room. It was small and claustrophobic. The walls were padded and the ceiling was so low I couldn't stand up. My arms were down now, sitting on my lap. The cuffs were still on and my wrists were raw and my legs pulled against my chest. 'I must be in some kind of asylum maybe? Maybe there's old cells in the basement of Arkham?' Then ideas popped in my throbbing head. 'Arkham!! There's people up there! Maybe I can get help!' I looked around. The only thing in the room was a mirror. And I stared straight into it.
'Oh my god. Oh my god, no. My face. My poor face!' It was cut like the Joker's and all of his victims. Why was I still alive? I forgot all about being saved. I gazed into the mirror at my face. All I could see was the ugly across my face, the bruises and cuts all over my body. I was hungry, tired, beat to a pulp, and disgusting. I was hideous. I didn't even think about the physical pain running through my body. I didn't care anymore. I kept staring at my self. And I did that for hours.
My stomach rumbled after a while and my throat was dry and soar from thirst, but there was nothing for me. Just a mirror and my face. I couldn't stretch my legs or even more for that matter. I was stuck.
Things started running through my mind. 'I'm just like the Joker now. Why aren't I dead? What is he going to do with me? Why did he does this to me? I'm just like the Joker. I am the Joker. I'm a freak. I'm hideous. I'll never be saved.' The thoughts swirled through my mind for days, then weeks, then months. The lights always stayed on and I never go to move. I was fed maybe three times a week it seemed like. I got used to the hunger in my stomach. My arms and legs ached from my sitting position; I never moved. My broken leg had been put back into place by someone when I was sleeping. The pain dulled and eventually I didn't feel anything. I was numb physically, mentally, and emotionally. For months all I did was sit speechless, staring at the mirror. All I saw were the scars and greasy hair, blood stained clothes, and that smile that stared back at me. I had even gotten used to the own stench I created from months without shower.
I didn't care about anything anymore. I didn't care about how gross I felt or even why I was still alive. I had no idea what was happening in the real world. I didn't know where I was. I just knew I was going crazy, just like the the Joker.
After what seemed like forever, staring at myself in that wretched mirror, I was heard a door open somewhere. My eyes didn't move from my lips in the reflection. I was probably just getting food. But the food slit didn't open in the room. A door did. My head turned to look outside. There was darkness. A hand came into view and gestured me to follow and so hesitantly, I did. I crawled out and the hands came to my wrists. The handcuffs came off and I was pulled to my feet.
I fell down instantly. I hadn't stood up in ages. I couldn't walk, my arms would barely move. So I slumped back on the floor and was dragged along.
I was dragged along the concrete floor of where ever I was until suddenly I felt something soft. Realizing my eyes had been closed, I snapped them open. It was grass. My lips slightly parted and actually licked the ground. The taste of dirt reached my tongue and I could feel emotions brewing in my head. But I quickly brushed them aside. I wasn't supposed to feel anything anymore except for hatred of my own self. I looked like a monster.
Then I felt something wet. Water. A river. The hands sat me down. It was a man in a clown mask, like the ones from the first night of my capture. I shuddered slightly at the thought and the hands ripped off my clothes. I didn't say anything. I hadn't talked in months. 'Do I even still have a voice? No not you, silly. You're only in my head. A real voice!' I laughed at myself in my head. I could be so funny sometimes.
The hands began to scrub me, with soap? Yes, it was soap. A lavender smell filled my nostrils as I breathed deeply in. I hadn't been washed in so long. My hair was washed, it's blazing red locks swirling around in the water. It felt good, the water running around my scalp, the dirt and grime being cleared from my body. I didn't dare to question the clown washing me. I didn't care what was happening. I felt clean.
My teeth were brushed and a new dress was put on me. It was green, like an emerald, and was the same design of the first one I had remembered wearing, the blue one. My hair was left down this time though, let to dry in its long flowing curls. And the white socks and shoes placed on my feet were sparkling with brightness. Eyeliner and mascara were applied to my eyes. The clown stared at me, then the Joker came into view. I think I actually smiled, only because my face was cut into one. I couldn't frown ever again.
"Well hello, dear! Oh I haven't seen you in ages! You look quite lovely." He laughed and laughed when I said nothing.
"I bet you'd like to know what's happening." I just sat there, staring, not saying a word. But I didn't know if I could even function. I didn't think I could talk anymore, I couldn't move my legs too well and my arms didn't have a wide range of motion. I was used to only eating when given food and sitting and staring.
"Well dearie, I'm leaving you right on the street. You make a lovely example, don't you think boys?" They nodded and picked me up. "You know, dear, you should smile more often. You have a beautiful smile." He laughed. Then for the first time... I began to laugh. And then I couldn't stop. Even when the clowns drove me, somewhere in Gotham and sat me on the street before shooting into the air and driving away frantically like drunks, I couldn't stop laughing. I just laughed and laughed. 'Smiling. Ha. That's funny. Joker you make me laugh.' I ended up rolling onto my back and laughed in the middle of the street. My laughed became screeches and became louder and louder until I couldn't control myself. I began crying, but couldn't stop, my head was talking to me. What ever it was saying in there was too funny I couldn't handle it.
I guess my laughing was a disruption and disturbance to the public because a yellow cape and something dark ran across the rooftops. They both dropped to the street in front of me, staring in horror. It was Batman and Robin.
Robin looked to Batman, who whispered something into his ear, before coming over to me with a worried look in his eyes and a frown on his face. His mask concealed the rest of his expression. He picked me up in his arms and leaped over to Batman, who's chin and lips were the only thing visible to my eyes. They were stern and closed tightly in a straight line. They looked unsure of what to do. I hadn't stopped laughing yet.
'Where the hell were you two when I was kidnapped?' I asked myself. This I found funny and in turn, laughed even louder. I was hysterical.
"Batman?" Robin said in a low voice and looked to him for an answer.
"Take her." His voice was deeper than Robin's. He sounded angry.
I felt something sharp prick my arm and began to feel groggy. 'Did they just drug me? Oh who even cares?' But my laughing slowly came to a stop as my eyes closed. I felt Robin lay me on something soft and the start of an engine purr. We lunged forward gently and I heard the wheels speed up. Then I was out like a light.
YOU ARE READING
The Joker Made Me Do It
FanfictionClaire Watson is abducted by a group of men and the Joker. who's the only person able to save her? Batman of course, and his trusty sidekick robin. But are they able to save her from the mental problems the men have caused her? Can she ever be happy...