masochist : harley quinn

2

"Do you consider yourself misunderstood?" I asked, clipboard at the ready.
"I suppose. I think I'm crazy, but not as crazy as everyone thinks I am. No one really knows me, they know the rumours and the facade I'm portrayed as. I scare people..." He trailed off. I waited for him to finish his sentence patiently. I didn't want to rush him. I had to wait for him to open up to me, and that wouldn't happen overnight. I took the small periods of silence between his replies to admire him. Not so much admire, more to memorise. I wanted to know him inside out.
"I like being unpredictable." He explained, a murderous glint in his eyes.
I could feel the light fluttering of excitement in my ribs; he was confiding in me! I hid a smile. I just hoped I hid it well.
There was a change in the Joker's eyes and for a second I thought he'd seen my smirk, but his train of thought altered and he started a new topic of conversation.
"I'm public property, the media thinks they own me. They use me for headlines and selling papers. I figure I'm already in the spotlight, so I might as well put on a show." He smirked.
"You were a comedian. Do you do the things you do because you think they're funny?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.
"You'll have to be more specific, doc." He smirked.
"Do you enjoy murdering people?" I asked, my voice faltering just the slightest bit. I wasn't scared. Just nervous. But he heard the falter, and that scared me more than anything. I couldn't have him knowing he had any power over me at all.
"I guess I don't like the death part much. Tossing hunks of rotting human flesh into rivers gets old, you know," He pondered his answer with little expression on his features. "I like the torture," His mouth cracked into a grin. "The chase, the capture, the tension, the screams. The blood. All of it." His eyes were filled with something animalistic; that part of him chilled me to my bones. It was then that I really realised exactly who I was dealing with. A violently dangerous criminal. I needed to watch my back.
I took a minute to write down 'sadist' on my clipboard.
"Do I scare you, Harley?" He asked, silver teeth glinting in a smile.
I swallowed the fear flooding through my veins. "No." I spoke evenly.
"I don't believe you." He laughed.
"Don't call me that." I mumbled, staring down at the table.
"Call you what? Harley? Don't like nicknames, baby?" He cackled.
"I'm not calling you anything other than your name. Your real name. What is it?" I tried my luck.
He let out a bark of a laugh, tipping his head back and letting the sounds reverberate off the ceiling. "You'll have to try harder than that, sweetness." He winked. "I'll give you a name - Mister J. What do you say about that?" He sneered.
"Mister J, huh?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Oh, baby, it's music to my ears!" He barked menacingly, silver teeth gleaming.

"Tell me about the acid accident." I blurted out. I needed to keep my composure. I was in control, not him. I couldn't lose control. Especially not around someone like the Joker.
His eyes darkened, I could see him reliving the memory all over again.
"I'm not going to lie and say it didn't hurt, but I think it changed me. Both physically and...mentally." He sighed heavily, but it wasn't one of sorrow. More like relief. He was relieved to be who he was now.
Now that he was the Joker, with no other name to hide behind, he could do as he pleased. He could do what he wanted. He could be the criminal he wanted to be. He had the power he wanted.

People put him in boxes to keep their minds away from any other possibility. He was bad, and that was all. He was a criminal mastermind. He was crazy. He was mad. He was cruel. That was what everybody thought.

I knew for a fact that somewhere, beneath the tattoos and scars, he had a heart. It was lying dormant; left alone for too long, perhaps like the Joker himself.

"Can you tell me about your childhood? What was it like?"
"It was fucking horrible, how cliche." He laughed harshly.
"What about Batman? How do you feel about him?"
"I hate his guts but if he wasn't around I think I'd end up killing myself. We all need some light entertainment." He shot back with a charming smile. As charming as someone like him could be.
"Joker, I want to get to know you. I want your story. I need more than vagueness." I snapped, a strand of my hair coming loose out of its bun. I closed my eyes to try to calm my frustrations.
"Ooh, she's angry," He mocked, his eyes brows shooting up, taunting me. I hated how smooth he was - or how smooth he felt he was.
"I think we're done here." I said harshly, gathering my things and pushing my chair in, the metal scraping against the concrete floor.
"Oh, Harley baby, come on. You gotta put up more of a fight than that!" He cackled, his head tilting back in a manic roar of laughter.

I ignored his comments and started to walk towards the door, away from him.
"Harley," He said. He repeated himself, becoming louder and louder before he was screaming at me from his chair, shaking with rage, constricted by the straight jacket. He could have gotten up if he'd wanted to. Instead he watched me leave.