Ok...I kinda have been putting this off for some time but I think I may have found the right mood to write this story. Darkness Takes Over mentioned something that she would like to see me touch on the thoughts of the Joker, since she loves the FCK diary entries. So, after looking for the correct idea, I discovered this while listening to Staind during Holloween. I thought it was just suited for the Joker. This is just a one-shot idea that popped in my head. Hope you enjoy.

I do not own any characters used in this story.

Without further due...

Schitzophrenic Conversations

Are you afraid, afraid of the truth, in the mirror staring back at you

Joker sat in the leather chair, shaking his leg waiting with nervousness as a new man. He tugs at his purple vest and green blazer, rubbing away white paint that rubbed from his face. He knew that he would need to release the urges inside but really was absolutely terrified of what was to come from it. Feeling his heart in his chest, he focused hard on controlling the beats; wishing that he didn't need to be here. The human part of him wanted to seek help but the other saw that no help would suffice. Only that it would drag him deeper into the hollowness of his mind, still rotting with ever-growing fear and turmoil.

He couldn't stand there. He shot up from the confines of the chair and paced quietly between the chair and desk. Rubbing his bottom chin he fought the urges to jump out of the window; ending it all as he would finally find peace. He also knew that it would only haunt him as he would keep lingering in the streets of Gotham, every sharp dark corner he would be there, peering in the dark watching despicable men sulk to the nearest dumpers and lay themselves along the oil covered streets and stagnant smell of rodents, water, and sewage. Even being out there only made the nausea worsen and felt his meal shoot up inside his throat.

The image is cracked but so is the view here and the strength of a tree beings in the roots that I tend to bury into you.

He felt hypnotized but the wood markings within the door, hoping to see Dr. Crane, the arrogant bastard that abused his pride, walk in with his little clipboard. The Joker knew that if only to be come one of the greats, he would need to end his predecessor's life. As the protégée of madness, he needed to rid the world of such mania so the he can inflict his chaos unto Gotham. "Scarecrow…such a lasting fairy tale that will so die with it's master. How uncanny he must think as he can try live a double life and yet, shy away from the one that he took in. Hamlet put it better when he sought out his spy 'A rat! A Rat!' he would cry. I have come to call out thee, doctor." He giggled quietly to himself, feeling the human that did reside finally letting the psycho fill his veins and overcome his thoughts.

At least now the storm can't blow me away. So crawl inside my head with me. I'll show you how it feels to be me, to blame like me.

The Joker quarreled with himself, gathering his plot and realizing that this was the only time to succeed in such a task. He would giggle manically as he watched his watch tick past the seconds. Only time would the doctor proceed through the door and soon come face to face with his death. Over the past few years, Joker would ravage his mind as to find some way to tear down the wall that Scarecrow built around Crane. What was thought to be impenetrable, Joker knew the key to shatter it. As time would carry, Joker was taken under the wing of the doctor; offering warmth, food, and company. Even though the Joker was a stranded child wondering the night of Gotham so many moons ago, he found solace and friendship within Crane, someone to look up to. Joker, known as Jackie, would study Crane's movements; mock him in his gestures and attributes. He would read books that would only be a challenge to understand the first sentence. But Jackie, he didn't know how smart he was. He blazed through page after page, sinking in the medical histories, mythical stories of dragons, witches, and wizards. When Jonathan would be gone on call, Jackie would create a slew of personalities, testing them on children as his mere guinea pigs. You see, Joker never wanted to be friends, he wanted control. He wanted to be anyone to gain a trust that he only would obliviate, creating his chaos that would spew into the hearts and minds of others.

Should I be afraid of this face that I see? In the mirror starting back at me. So cold were the days when I listened to you and you say that I'm weak. So show me the proof, because I still exist in spite of you, but I won't compete with you every day.

As the years progressed, Jackie and Jonathan would soon grow apart, speaking tongues of lavish curses and names that only would stun the mothers in the projects of Gotham. Back and forth they would scream, but with every name, Jackie saw the cracks in the wall start to widen and crumble. He was getting close. Standing in his office, the doctor Johnathan Crane, only made the rage even more evident. Joker felt that with the end of the doctor's rein, he will find the true throne to chaos, and his face will be seen.

Schizophrenic conversations that I'm always having with myself. I hear these voices in my head competing, maybe I could use a little help.

The joker quicken his pace between the desk and sitting chairs. The thoughts rang through his head were not going to be kept at bay anymore. he was tired of living in the shadows. He wanted people to notice him. He was the face of chaos. The stories he would tell of how he got his scars; they would always change from his father, to his wife to his mother. All were about mistakes, weakness and fear. He didn't want to live in fear, but didn't want to live in a world that survived on order either. With the wisest animal previals over a kingdom. An eternity stood between the door and Joker but it was soon silenced by coming footsteps and the sound of Dr. Crane's voice. Joker's smile slowly crept across his face as he hid within the shadows of the office.

I still have Schitzophrenic Conversations when there's no one else around to hear. I long for solitude and peace within me, void all the anger and the fear.

The door opened with a quiet squeak with the billowing white coat that draped over Dr. Crane's shoulders. He sighed tiredly at his desk as she placed files onto his cherry wood finish. He fell into his leather seat and absorbed the softness, causing his bones and muscles to finally relax after pulling an 18 hour shift. He lifed his head, letting it fall back to the chair catch his head. The Joker saw his oppertunity; the final round that would make him the victor. He crept slowly behind the doctor, relaxing his day within the leather binding.

So crawl inside my head with me and I'll show you how it feels to be fucked up like me. I'll show you how it feels to be me. To blame like me, ashamed like me.

Joker loomed above the crest of the chair, seeing Jonathan's crown of jet black hair. He slow raised his hands and unraveled the fishing line from his fingers, now purple and bound where it was tied tightly. He reached over and clasped the line around the doctor's neck. The doctor shot up quickly and reached around his neck as the oxygen was slowly closing up on him. He gagged with wet screams, choking violently as the line grew tighter around his young flesh. The Joker grunted quietly as he finally found the answer to end his voices, the undying bickering inside his head.

"Now, doctor. Don't jerk violently now. It would ruin the whole emotion you have created for yourself."

Jonathan reconzied the voice and he saw the Joker peer over his right shoulder and smile at him. Joker took so much pride into what he was accomplishing. He smiled widely and then cackled, making the walls rumble with vibration. The pressure grew inside the doctor's head as he knew that he was close to blacking out. Finally the doctor stopped resisting and let his hands fall to his lap. He knew that he was at his end by his own student. He lunged his head forward, causing him to feel lightheaded as the line caused more pressure to build in his head. He then squealed out in a eerie sick tone, gagging to be heard.

"Et tu Brute?"

"Why yes, Ceasar, tis I your own apprintice who has claimed you as his first. How acceptional is that?" Joker watched as the doctor's eyes rolled back into his head and soon heard the crashing thud of his forehead hit the desk, exhausting his final breath. Joker then released his grip and walked casually around the desk. The doctor's body was slumped over the files now spilled across his desk and floor. Joker backed into the darkness and walked out onto the catwalk of the clinic's second story window. Joker calmly walked the ledge, sliding down the drain pipe and then onto the sidewalk. He finally had ceased the voices in his head as he now would be the chaos in the dismal world of Gotham City.