The street lights flashed above me in an orderly manner that was somehow hypnotic. The ride took about forty five minutesfrom my apartment, and we still haven't reached our destination yet.
"That's your third visit this month, the place must have become your new home," the old taxi driver joked.
"You have no idea," my voice sounding as unamused as that rock we'd just run over.
Little did he know that he was one of the dozen cabs I've used this month.
This "monthly visit" thing was Desmond's idea to "keep a healthy relationship between us" because, "I'm the only thing he has left" aparently.
The only thing he has left to use, to finish his sentence. He's been using me as his little pawn ever since I could remember.
I'm surprised I haven't ended up at some juvenile hall with all the things I've had to go through because of him. Technically, it wasn't me who committed the crimes, I'm just the messenger sending orders to a group of "specialized people" who seem to have no problem getting their hands dirty for a little buck.
Why am I doing this you may ask? To be completely honest, I don't have a specific reason. All I can say though, is that I'm getting real fuckin' tired of this role I'm playing.
The car came to a stop and I was instantly snapped back to reality.
"That'll be 48,"
I pull out the folded money from my back pocket and hand him 50, "keep the change" I open the door to exit the cab, "don't take off, I wont take long."
He responds with a nod and I turn to face the main rusty gates of, "Arkham Asylum". My boots swept through the piles of neglected crusty dead leaves as I pushed one of the gates open ignoring the dirty looks I was getting from the security guard.
***
The asylum was oddly quiet, the fact that it's around one am may explain it. I keep my freezing hands balled in the baggy pockets of my hoodie and start to march towards the white metallic push door. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I inhaled the rotten scent of the asylum, you'd think they'd give the place a little makeover by now.
I doubt the doctors, security guards, and any employee around here hadn't passed by a strange phase of "hallucination" at least three times from the day they started working in this hellhole.
I keep my stare on the worn out grey-ish white floor tiles till I reached the reception.
"ID," the receptionist says without even making eye contact with me.
I slam the ID on the marble table that had a glass separating the two of us with a tiny mouse hole like opening allowing the items to pass through it.
She glares at me then snatches the ID from the table, "you're underage, you're supposed to accompany an adult," she scoffs then goes back to sharpening her disgusting yellow nails.
"Are you kidding me? I've been here a over a hundred times! Hell I've been here more than I've been in my own room!"
"Not my problem" she spots.
"I'll break you" I warned.
She sits there gawking at me in disbelief, and right before shit got real a stern hand suspended my shoulder from moving. I shove myself away from the person that I thought was security but was staring at Blakey, one of the employees who works near the private rooms, he's also in the same chemistry, biology, history, and physics class I'm in.
"Woh calm down there tiger," he holds his hands up in surrender jokingly.
You're seriously the last person I want to encounter today, "I thought you only worked on the afternoon shifts,"
He scratches the back of his head, "yeah my co-worker called in sick, which I one hundred percent think is total bullshit, because I literally saw him last night at a-"
"Blake I'm in a hurry and I'm really not in the mood for talking," I cut him right before he dives into his never ending pointless conversations.
"Oh," his caramel colored eyes lower down at his feet, his shoulder length brown hair lightly fall across the side of his forehead, as his face slowly turns a light shade of red, "sorry about that, I tend to get carried away sometimes-"
"Blake," I raise my voice to get his attention.
"Yeah! Sorry," he swings his arms over my shoulder, "I'll take it from here Val,"
The girl doesn't even look up at him when we started walking down the hall.
I push his hand off, "don't do that,"
"Jeez Spade why you have to be so grumpy all the time?" he pushes down a red door that says "special case patients" in large white letters.
"I'm not grumpy," I frown. Why do people have to over react whenever I say anything, they act as if I'd just punched them in the face or kicked them in the crouch. Don't they ever get used to it?
I was startled by a loud whistle coming from one of the rooms they kept their psychos in, "over here sexy, show me what that booty can do!" An old hag calls from behind the metal bars.
I mentally throw up in my mouth but keep a poker face and continue walking down this never ending corridor,
"Hey! Don't make me taze you," Blakey warned.
I turn to talk to Blake when the guy interrupts me, "Can she do it? I wouldn't mind" The man grinned at me revealing the most disgusting set of teeth I've ever seen, and so far I've seen a pretty decent amount.
My eye caught the familiar black leather pillow door a few feet away and I instantly stop in my tracks, "I think I can take it from here" I turn to Blakey again to him having a stare down with the psycho guy.
Blake looked pretty serious about it so I decide not to burst their little fun bubble and continue my walk alone.
He instantly snaps back to his normal self and runs towards me, "no I insist,"
"Seriously, go" I give him a warning look.
I don't want him to see me in this situation, even if he's the closest person to me, I would rather die then have him see me like this.
"But-"
"Go!" I shout.
He cringes then turns and walks away. When I made sure he was completely out of sight I turned, now facing the black door, I take a deep breath and begin to walk towards it. why did I always feel like this? you think I'd get used to something like that, since I've been coming here ever since I could remember.
Pretty wired for a twelve year old to visit her own father at an asylum, you don't see that everyday. I pull out my ID and wave it in front of the ID scammer that was programmed to pass all security guards, employees, and his daughter. The door clicks open and I cautiously pull it open, enter, and close it behind me.
And there he was, sitting in the corner of the room where it was the darkest, wearing his beige straitjacket. He was slouching with his head leaning forward leaving small strands of green hair hover above his closed eyes. His legs were stretched outwards slightly bent at the knees.
The room smelled like worn out leather, since all the walls were made out of white leather sofa like material to prevent the patient from hurting themselves. I nervously walk to the white mattress that was placed on the floor and sit on it.
"Dad?" My voice just bellow a whisper but I could tell he heard me from the sudden wide grin that spread across his face.
My father, the most despised villain in all of Gotham, the joker lifted his head up revealing emerald eyes staring right back at me, "Spade"