Property Of Joker | ✓

02 | anxiety

02 | anxiety

(n) an uneasy state of mind usually over the possibility of an anticipated misfortune or trouble

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                    I was immediately met by cold air and glass doors. Through the glass door, I could see a small white bed, a table with two chairs on opposite ends, a sink and other necessary stuff.

I looked at the small keypad on the glass door and typed in the password for the door. The glass door opened and I didn't step in. My eyes continuously searched around the room and that's when two hands emerged up all of a sudden from the bed that was directly opposite to me. My heart started beating fast at the sight of two tattoo covered pale hands.

I didn't realise he was lying on the bed. His body was leanly muscular and he was shirtless. He sat up on the bed slowly and he still hasn't noticed my presence. I remained as silent as the air around me and waited for him to notice me.

He stretched his pale neck and arms. His electric green hair was slightly messy. His eyes were closed all the while. After stretching a few more times, he opened his eyes and directly turned his neck around to face me.

My breath hitched at the unexpected move and I tried not to show it.

He continued staring at me and I didn't know where his eyes were looking specifically because all I could see were two black holes and I gulped.

He remained staring at me, watching and studying my actions. I finally had the guts to walk inside and I stepped into the cell, walking my way towards the table and I took out my clipboard and pen to place it on the table.

"Welcome to my lair." I heard a throaty voice right behind me, whispering in my ear and I almost jumped in sudden fear but I controlled myself.

He moved around to the front, his eyes narrowing at me intimidatingly and my breath came to a halt at the close proximity. He tried to touch my face, his hands reaching them and I moved away, slightly takened aback at what he was about to do.

What is he trying to do?

Anger filled me and I frowned at him.

He did the exact opposite.

He smiled. And it was evil. You could tell. It was a slow vile smile and it made you shrink.

"Please sit down on that chair Joker." I said firmly and glared at his cerulean cold eyes.

"So the animal shouts when provoked." He said, laughing, showing his metal teeth and he slowly got up from leaning against the table.

I immediately disliked him and this only fuelled my anger.

He was towering over me and I glared back, not backing down. He walked away and sat down on the chair opposite of me.

I sat down on mine and wrote down what he said on the clipboard and I looked up to see him leaning towards me. His face unreadable. His icy blue eyes were constantly staring at me and his head was always moving like as if it was dancing.

"I am Dr. Harleen Quinzel and I am your psychiatrist. You will only call me Dr. Quinzel and answer each and every question with honesty." I said sternly and he stared, not responding. After a moment of silence, he opened his mouth, a mischievious glint dancing in his eyes.

"My psychiatrist?" He asked. "That sounds good." He said before giving me a horrific smile that sent shivers down my spine. I adjusted myself in my seat and looked down at my clipboard.