𝐼𝐼 𝐵𝑒𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝐵𝒶𝓇𝓈 • Joshler ⭐️ COMPLETED II

💫 ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴛᴀʏ, ᴍʀ ᴊᴏsᴇᴘʜ 💫

December, 1, 2017

💫

I guess I wasn't cooperating, because when I regained consciousness my head was hurting. An officer must've hit me in the head with a baton. Isn't that nice? And here I was so sure I wouldn't be caught. Great.

I glanced down at my hands, they were restrained in shackles. So we're my legs. And when I looked up from my legs, four officers had guns pointed at me. These people must really think I'm dangerous.

Cool.

💫

They throw me into a cell, lock the door, and sigh. I noticed how badly the cops were sweating while handling me. They really thought I would hurt them. I laugh. I'm saving my strength to get out of here.

Once they leave, I turn my head to the lamp sitting on a desk in my cell. I wonder if I can carve it into a knife. I pick at the walls. White tiles. I wonder what if might feel like to bang my head against the wall.

I examine the sheets, maybe I can make a noose out of them and hang a guard. I'll save that idea.

💫

I'm staring at a roach on the ground when an officer rounds the corner, then leans himself against my cell bars.

I squint to read the tag on his uniform. Officer.. D.. Dun..? Officer Dun. Officer Dun! That's him!

I smirk.

"Hello there, Officer Dun," I said, standing up and leaning into the bars, staring into his eyes.

He nods at me. "You're new. What you in here for?"

"Homicide," I shrug, "no big deal."

He scoffs, "Like that ain't a big deal, you know killing people is wrong right? What's wrong with you?"

Like I don't know how many mistakes I've made. He's more annoying than I remembered him to be.

"No, Officer Dun. Killing people is right! Blood splatter is amazing! I like to play in the blood of dead bodies after I kill them! Hur Hur!" I said, sarcastically. Then sticked my tongue out and crossed my eyes.

He rolled his eyes, "Another sarcastic crazy. Keep on talking like that and I'll make sure you end up in the psychiatric ward."

I laugh. Should be there anyways.

Hey, I wonder if they have Harley. And where the heck they put my AK-47.

"Yo, Dun, you guys caught a girl named Harley? Harley Quinn?"

"Huh?" He said, stupidly.

"Harleen Quinzel?" I asked again.

"Oh, crazy chick. She your girlfriend or something?"

"No. My best friend. Is she on the run?"

"No. We got her awhile after we got you."

"Oh. Ok."

"Why are you so calm? Government told us you were insane."

"I am, Officer Dun. But don't be confused, not all mentally ill people act crazy. My mind does that for me," I said.

He shook his head, then banged his baton against my cell.

"Enjoy your stay, Mr Joseph. Lights out."

And just like that. I was nothing but an inmate with bloody hands, not a person.