Suddenly there was an explosion, and she could hear screams and shouting. Regardless, she continued to sing. There were a few moments of screaming and explosions, and then pure silence. She held her guitar close and strummed out the notes. She heard footsteps coming closer to her, but she still sang.
She was interrupted by a small cough. She smiled.
"Weeeell, ah, Doll, it would seem that you aren't, well, running for your life."
She just continued to smile coolly. "Why should I run away? I wouldn't get very far, would I?"
That seemed to amuse him a bit, and he walked away. Little did she know that she had just become one of the rare few that actually survive an encounter with the infamous Joker. As he walked away, the few clear words rang from her mouth.
"Don't stay low, don't stay low, just pick yourself up and go on."
Later when she would be interrogated by the GPD, she would only smile slightly when asked why she wasn't killed on the spot.
Some people are fated for big things, she said. Some people like me are fated to make a small difference in this world of ours, and some people are fated to be changed. I think he let me live, because he appreciated the change I was making, even if it was small.
She was told she was crazy, that this was a madman, not a poet of some sort. A madman that had just killed hundreds of innocent people. Still, when she was dismissed, she just went back to her spot on the street and hoped that he would come again.
Every two months or so she would meet him again. Always just five minutes, never longer. He would kill everyone nearby, but never her. Time after time again she would be questioned by the GPD, but she always gave them the same answer.
One day however, it was different. She was singing her favorite song, and was looking forward to his regular visit. She heard the regular gunshots, screams and sounds of sirens, but this time she didn't get to finish her song.
No one knew why his absurd fixation with her ended so suddenly.
No one knew why she was cut off in the middle of the verse.
No one knew why she choked on blood, and why she hit the pavement.
All of these things will forever remain a mystery, but there is one thing that no one will ever know.
He hadn't killed her out of love, madness, or simply annoyance.
In fact, he hadn't killed her at all.
br /And no one would ever know about the dead roses on the street every month.
No one would know about the graffiti on her spot.
"Don't stay low, Don't stay low, just pick yourself up and go on."
/pre