Property Of Joker | ✓

28 | stupid

28 | stupid

(adj) having or showing a great lack of intelligence or common sense

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                    Slowly and reluctantly, I uncover my face. I blink, close my eyes, and blink again. Streaks of sunlight penetrate the window and blind me. I sit up, drag my feet off the bed, and rub my knuckles onto my eyes. I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. I watch my legs dangle above the off-white polyester carpet.

Wait.

Within seconds, I am on my feet, eyes wide. Now I'm awake, perhaps more fully awake than I've ever been.

I looked above at the green ceiling and groaned. "Ugh!" I said, frustratedly and threw my hands up in the air.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." I muttered under my breath, punching my hand into my other hand's palm and paced the bedroom.

I knew there was something wrong with that grape soda he had given me, during dinner last night. I should have known better. He drugged me and now I'm back in my apartment.

"Ugh!" I stomped my feet on the ground angrily. Something caught my eye and I whipped my head around to look at it again. There was a green letter on my bed. I grabbed in a flash of a second, and tore it open, aggressively.

Dear Dr. Quinzel,

Surprise! Hope you love it.

Love,
Mr. J

That huge pile of bleached green shit! He is so dead.

I wracked my brain on where his house could be. I didn't have any clue. I should have asked while I was there. I should have thought of that. But, no! I was drowned in admiring his handsome face to think of these important details!

"Stupid!" I cursed, kicking the table in front of me in frustration.

I should have expected this. I knew at the back of my mind that it was too easy for him to let me stay just like that. Ofcourse he wouldn't.

God, I feel like I'm going crazy over him and it's not even funny.

How in this damn city am I going to find his house? How am I going to find him? He is a criminal and probably should have really good hiding spots.

I sighed, feeling a little hopeless and fell on the bed backwards, my legs dangling off the sides.

There are seven billion people in this planet. I have met and talked with thousands of guys in my life and my heart chose to love a psychotic hansome serial killer?

Dear heart, why him?

I stared at the green ceiling. He was right, it reminded me of his green hair, the electric green hair that I wanted to desperately brush my fingers through.

He is pushing me away. Its not that he doesn't want me. I can see it in his eyes everytime we talk. He is just shutting me out because of fear. Afraid of the feeling I give him when I'm around. I have seen it in his eyes during our sessions and I'm a psychiatrist, a legend at that. So, he can't deny it.

And, I am determined to make him accept these feelings because I don't think I can probably look at any other guy and feel this way towards them.

My breathing calmed and my chest heaved up and down. My brain started thinking of all the sessions I had with him, trying to find a clue, and came up with none.

All you have to do is go to that club...

Mr. J's voice trailed off in my head. Ofcourse! The club! Surely, one of his men, must be there. And, I can ask them about his house, although I don't think anyone would tell me that easily. They are his men.

I sighed. Atleast, I have got something useful now.

I stood up and dragged myself to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. I was desperate for coffee. I wrap my fingers around the coffee mug, enjoying the heat that spreads through my hands. After only a few seconds, I am bathing in the kick of the caffeine. I take a bigger sip and this time let the warm liquid sit my tongue for a little longer, savouring the bitter flavour. It was a source of caffeine though and so I drank like a sailor new to whiskey.

My eyes flip to the newspaper lying isolated and abandoned on the kitchen table and I grab it, holding the lukewarm coffee in my other hand. Flipping the newspaper open, I scanned through the pages with news about politics, new findings in science, social events, job oppurtunities, etc.,

My breath came to a halt when my eyes landed on a picture of the asylum.

Gｏｔｈａｍ - Aｒｋｈａｍ Aｓｙｌｕｍ. Tｈｅ ｕｎｆｏｒｔｕｎａｔｅ ｌｅｇｅｎｄａｒｙ ｍａｓｓａｃｒｅ ｏｆ ｔｈｅ ａｓｙｌｕｍ. Tｈｅ ａｔｔａｃｋ ｈａｓ ｂｅｅｎ ｒｕｍｏｕｒｅｄ ｔｏ ｈａｖｅ ｂｅｅｎ ｄｏｎｅ ｂｙ Mｒ. ｊ ａｌｓｏ ｋｎｏｗｎ ａｓ ｔｈｅ Jｏｋｅｒ, ｂｙ ｔｈｅ ｒｅｃｏｒｄｉｎｇｓ ｉｎ ｔｈｅ CCTV ｃａｍｅｒａ.

There were some more information about the families which were grieving due to the death of certain staff members, and about how few of them managed to escape.

In the end, there were a list of patients who had escaped the Asylum and my eyes widened when I read this.

27. Pｏｉｓｏｎ ｉｖｙ

Poison Ivy escaped. Maybe I should find her. Maybe she can give some information. She was the one who said, she knows everything. I don't think it will be that hard finding her. She probably has her place somewhere where there are flowers. Gardens, parks, flower shops, etc.,

Immediately, I am on work, I sip down the coffee in one long sip and grab the laptop, typing away, trying to find gardens, parks, flower shops in Gotham. I search and search. And, time flowed, it passed so fast, but I was full on concentration and determination.

I found many shops, probably hundreds of them and I don't think I have time to go and search them one by one. So, I analyze the names of the shop and the places they were built one, trying to find one that makes sense.

I grab my pen and wrote my final top 50 that I have finally gathered. Looking at scribbled messy handwriting of mine, I think hard, looking at each name.

Petals. Rose garden. Green park. Amazon in a pot. Essence. Bloom. Haley Life. Roc--

Haley Life.

My eyes widened and a full grin made its way on my face as realisation dawned on me.

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Hello!

Poor Harleen. Haha. Hope she finds him.

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