Silent Whispers

Leave Me Alone Mary

It had been nearly a month since Jerome was sent to Arkham. Everyday living at the circus was getting worse and worse. No one would talk to her. And the ones that did only scolded her. Telling her how stupid she was for dating a murderer. Jerome and she weren't even friends let alone dating. Not that it mattered she didn't exactly like anyone there anyway. But her newfound voice didn't help the situation, always telling her to kill every single one of them for treating her so unfairly. How was she supposed to know Jerome was insane after how well he hid it?

"Hey Belle!"

Isabelle started her walk back to her small trailer at the edge of the circus later than usual. She had hoped watching the show, instead of selling tickets and leaving, would help distract herself from her unwanted thoughts.

"Hey Belle wait up!" Mary Lloyd called again. Isabelle groaned at the nickname. She hated being called Belle.

"Do not call me this." Isabelle grumbled.

"I just noticed you stayed for the show. You never stay for the show. What gives?" Mary asked with her nauseating friendliness. She still had her sparkly clown outfit and stupid makeup on. 

"None of your business."

"Jeez. You know ever since Jerome got locked up, you've been a real jerk." Isabelle just rolled her eyes. "Maybe you should try the Ferris wheel. I know it always calms me down. Like that time me and John Grayson-" Isabelle began to tune her out. She had become quite good at it due to the constant practice the past month of had provided her.

'You should kill her' the voice says. 

"I say one more time, leave me alone Mary." she argued against the voice's suggested.

The two girls approached the game area. Isabelle glanced from her shoes at the sound of the High Striker game's bell. She noticed how heavy the mallet held by the man playing the game looked. She thought of Jerome, and how happy he looked after ridding himself of his greatest burden. Isabelle's hands twitched as they got closer to the game.

"-but I guess I can't blame you." Mary continued.

The man dropped the hammer to accept his prize. Once they got close enough, Isabelle picked it back up and waited for the clown girl to turn around. 

"I don't think you could do any better than a ax murder." Mary teased.

She noticed Isabelle had stopped walking. She turned to face Isabelle as the hammer was brought to her head as hard as Isabelle could manage. 'Finally!' The voice cheered. Mary fell to the ground. Isabella licked the blood from her lips, and despite all the attention she had drawn, she lifted the mallet above her head and brought it down again. And again. And again.

______________

After realizing what she had done it was too late. She was brought to the GCPD and sat in front of James Gordon.

"Hello again" he started. 

She sat in the chair with her knees to her chest. An uncomfortable position, but she felt less vulnerable this way. As if her legs provided protection. Isabelle didn't respond and kept her eyes to the table in front of her.

"It seems just yesterday you were here last, doesn't it?"

She still said nothing.

"Would you sit normally please?" he asked getting frustrated at her silence. Isabelle let her legs go and folded her arms in her lap instead. "I'm still curious." Jim says. "How were you involved in Lila's murder?" 

Realizing it couldn't get her in more trouble than she was already in, Isabelle and looked up at Jim. "I threw hatchet off the bridge." she admitted. Jim nodded realizing that made sense. There's no way Jerome and a blind elder could have hid the body, cleaned up Jerome, and taken care of the hatchet, all during the show without help.

"And what encouraged you to commit a murder of your own?"

She shook her head, still not looking at the detective. "I had enough"

"Enough of what?"

"I was tired of being punished for Jerome's mistakes."

"And so you killed someone?"

"Voice told me to."

"You hear voices?" 

"Just one" she shrugged.

Gordon looked at her funny.

Gordon let out a long sigh and looked at the officer standing in the corner. "Fill out the paperwork, send her to Arkham." Jim said as he stood from his seat and left the room.

She waited hours before she was finally transported to Arkham after being her full name and age, which she didn't actually know. The whole way imagining every horrible thing that could happen to her in a building full of mentally ill men with minimal supervision.

It was near midnight when she was thrown into a cell. Cold, anxious, and alone she curled onto the rock hard mattress and tried to think of anything other than Jerome. Anything other than the smile on his face when he killed Lila. Anything other than bashing Mary's head in. And anything other than how much she enjoyed the rush it gave her.