Madness (Joker Love Story)

Who Are You?

      He leaned in quickly through the bars, hoping to claim her lips with his own, but she backed away just as swiftly. She exhaled a shaky breath and slowly stepped closer. She kept eye contact as she twisted the key in the padlock and opened the door for herself. The Joker refused to move aside, so when she stepped inside, the distance between them was almost nonexistent. 
         "What are you afraid of?" He breathed out, staring beyond her eyes. She refused to answer him;  only walked over to the bed and patted a spot next to her, closer than she presumed. He gladly took the opportunity to be close to her. "Who are you?" She finally spoke, more innocently than previously intended. It sounded almost desperate. She was, but she couldn't let anyone know that; especially the Joker. He raised a confused eyebrow, so she elaborated.
        "I've been studying you, just like I'm supposed to, this entire time. And yet," she paused, "well that's just it, you see. I don't know anything anymore. And I think you're the cause of that. This endless pit in my mind. So I came to ask you.. What makes you so special, huh?" She said, her voice and facial expressions playfully impudent. "Who, me?" He joked, looking around quickly before realizing she really was curious.
        He thought for a moment, cleared his throat, and looked directly in her eyes. "I'm a monster. I'm an agent of chaos.  I'm a man who likes to see the funny side when no one else can or will. I'm an man who's decided that he doesn't want to play by societal rules, and has discovered that morals are just extensions of those rules to hold back the stronger few. I'm a man who's become completely enamored with you. I think you know who I am though.. The real question you want to ask is who are you? Hmm?
        You don't strike me as one to fall for the manipulations society tries to drown you in. You strike me as the one to see them for exactly what they are; schemes. You seem like someone who's been thinking for too long; on the cusp of knowing everything, and forever struggling with her own mind.. You know the truth about me, though. Let me tell you the truth about you--" "No!" She finally said. 
        The exclamation had been building up inside of her since they began the subject of her. She couldn't stand to hear anything about  herself, let alone the truth. There was no truth. She was her own biggest issue. Every aspect of her a grim reminder of how fucked humanity was and would always be. She didn't want to talk about it with him, given his choice to dismantle the idea of civilization, she feared she might take his offer.
         "I don't want the truth about me." She said, agonizing tears threatening to perforate her strong facade. "You don't want it, but you need it." He turned her face back to look at him. "What are you afraid of?" He asked again. This time she was prepared with an answer.