A Picture of What Could Have Been

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"Life... is a very precious gift to give, delicate and enjoyable to the beholder. We can never choose a date when our death comes unless it's suicide. A criminal can choose who lives and who dies. Countless murders are reported on the news but there are no traces on the ones, or should I say one that is committing them. All they know is that he dresses like a clown. 

"It could be anyone in this city, your neighbor, your best friend...or even a family member. You never know, which is the scary part. Yes, I do have a confession, I know who this clown is, after all we went to the same high school. He was my best friend and I was his. He was a normal child with no mental illnesses of the sort, well from what I had observed from." 

The police man cut me off as he raised his hand. "They all start out like that. We need a name, NOT a life story," he said rather rudely.  

"If you please sir," I said a bit angrily. "As I was saying...he seemed normal at school, yes, always making jokes, he was a big class clown until he moved across town with his father, but it was the home life that may have triggered his current state of mind. You see as a child his mother left him and his father. After that his father drank and abused him until the age of eighteen. He moved into my apartment where I cared for him until he was mentally stable, again. At the age of twenty one he moved out, after telling me he had killed his father and couldn't risk me being in the middle of police controversies on his whereabouts and the whole nine yards because I had enough on my plate by being a new mom. After he left, he had gotten worse from the reports I have heard and now here he is, dressed as an insane sociopathic clown." 

"And his name?" Commissioner Gordon asked me very politely.  

"I'm afraid I cannot give you his name, because when I met him every one called him Joker, no one really knows his real name," I lied. "I know his mental state very well and am very well aware of the situation. I came here today to give you information on what you are dealing with. I am sorry if this does not help your case," I said. 

"At least we have background," Gordon said. "You may leave then, but expect to hear from us again alright Ms. Woods." I nodded then left the office to collect my seven year old daughter who was waiting for me out in the lobby. She looked up at me with the same brown eyes that her father had, but these eyes where full of worry. She grabbed my hand, and we then left the police station and walked home. 

"Mommy..." 

"Yes Bridget?" I said looking down at her. 

"Why did we come here?" she asked. 

"Well...they wanted mommy to talk to them about one of her clients," I said.  

Bridget said nothing more for the remainder of the night. She went to bed after dinner and I went to my room as well but I couldn't sleep. Then I heard something drop in my bathroom. I quickly got out of bed and went to the bathroom only to see him. 

"You're kid is getting taller Brooke," he said not turning around. "Looks just like you." 

"What are you doing here," I sighed. 

"I wanted to see you doll. I missed you," he said turning to me. 

"I missed you too. Seriously why are you doing this?" I asked as I put my hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and walked over to the vanity and looked at Bridget's pictures. 

"You're the only one who ever cared Brooke, but I don't regret anything that I did," he smiled. "I changed, and obviously you didn't since high school." 

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