The light shone sharply into his eyes as the doctor continued to ask questions about his mental health and history.
"So, what have you done today?" said the doctor in a somewhat uninterested tone.
"Well... Firstly I woke up, just as roughly as every morning, with a policeman slamming on my door and shouting on me to go up.
Then... I ate "breakfast", if you could call it that...
Then I went over to Bobby to talk."
"What did you talk about?" asked the doctor.
"Of lots of things, sports, weather, politics.
But it's mostly I that handle the talk, since Bobby can't do so much else than drool the whole day since The Scarecrow had his way with him." answered The Joker while looking around in the room.
"I see that you have some trouble focusing on me, shall I give you more medicine?"
The Joker didn't answer him, but kept on examining the bright room.
"I ain't happy that you keep ignoring me you know."
The Joker turned his head to him slowly and said:
"It's not that I'm ignoring you that bothers you, is it?
What it really is... Is that you're stuck here with me, while your little Lucy back home, is running around helping your neighbors "cleaning", if you know what I mean?" The Joker turned his head a bit to the side and leaned forward a bit more,
"Don't ever say that about my wife again." said the doctor with a sharp and angry tone.
"But it's true, and you know it Steve.
Your little Lucy, having... Carnal relations with other men... Since you ain't enough for her. Since you can't... Please her." The Joker said each word more slowly than the last.
"If you say, anything, and I mean anything, about my wife again, I swear to God-"
"What are you going to do doc? Hmm? Are you going to kill me? Huh? Are you going to hit me? Are you going to lock me up in the isolation again? Actually, I'm pretty comfortable there." The Joker swung from side to side after each question, and revealing a body language that made it obvious that he wanted the doctor to react from his actions.
"Don't push it you clown." said the doctor angrily.
The Joker stopped moving for a second, turning his head to the side, showing his ear while moving closer to the doctor.
"What... Did you call me doc?" he asked coldly.
"I called you a clown, you freak." said the doctor, spelling "clown" with his lips.
The Joker started to laugh, leaning back in his chair.
"Ahaha, no... No... I'm not a clown..." The Joker shifted tone from mad laughter, to a serious, cold voice.
"I'm not... A clown." he repeated.
"Do you feel mad, clown?" the doctor asked with an bad looking grin on his face.
"Let me... Tell you a story... About myself.
When I was a kid, the circus came to the town. It was a famous circus, really big.
But, my family, wasn't the most rich of all. So we couldn't afford to see it.
The one time, that the circus came to town, and I couldn't go.
But I sneaked in, you see? I sneaked into the tent when the show was about to start, and sat down at an empty place, to silently, watch the show.
There was exotic animals, fire breathers, sword eaters, magicians, acrobatics, all kinds of stuff that was exciting to a little boy... But there was this one guy...
A joker.
And this joker, moved me. He truly inspired me, to do things, that little boys enjoy to do.
He inspired me so much, that I wanted to be like him-"
"Where is this going?" interrupted the doctor.
"Don't... Interrupt me..." he stared at the doctor for some time before continuing.
"Anyhow, he inspired me so deeply, that I wanted to be like him. So after the show, I stole some makeup from the backstage. And I put it all on, and there I had it.
I looked just like him. So, proud as I was, I headed home, just to see that my mother, was crying on the floor, and that my father, was a little more drunk that he used to be.
And also, that my mother's face, was bleeding from the hit's he's been delivering to her, he... Looked, at me, he... Stared, at me. And then he started to laugh, or... No. It wasn't laughter, it was... Madness, that came from my father's mouth. He, struck me, in the head with a bottle, because... I looked the way I did. Then, he turned to my mother... Cursing.
That she gave birth to a freak, like me. He pointed the knife, that he had in his hand, at my mother, still cursing, over, what bitch she was, over, how useless, she was...
My father, stabbed my mother... In her thigh, she started to bleed, and... She was... Screaming, for help. He then, stabbed her in her arm, while she tried, to defend herself.
Then he... Raped her... In front my eyes... I saw... My mother... Being raped... By this, monster. And after that... He killed her.
He stabbed her... In her neck, paralyzing... Her countenance, and that was... Pain, suffering, fear.
Then... He turned to me.
He said: "Why so serious, little clown? Ain't you supposed to laugh, like clowns do?"
He took the blade, and put it in my mouth, then he said: " Why so serious? Show me a great smile, clown boy."
I felt a terrible pain in my cheeks, then my father kicked me, when I was laying down. Then, he dropped the knife, to go to the oven, turning it on.
He was going to burn me... Alive.
I did what I had to do, I picked up the knife... And stabbed him in the back.
He turned around, swearing at me, so I stabbed him again, in his shoulder.
He fell down to the ground, screaming in pain, while I kept stabbing him, until he died.
Then I ran away, crying over the loss of my mother.
But you know, you got to see the bright things in life, ever since that moment, I'm always smiling!"
The doctor leaned slowly forward, having his face just a couple of inches from The Jokers head, whispering:
"You're nothing but a, mad, fucking, clow-"
Before he could finish his sentence, The Joker thrust himself over the table, biting his throat, tore away his carotid artery, making him bleed to death.
He stood up, laughing hysterically over the death of his therapist.
With the blood from the doctor in his face, The Joker was forced on a strait jacket and was dragged out of the room, still laughing with murder in his eyes.
The corridor he was dragged through was just as white as the room he's earlier been in, but the most noticeable difference was that the corridor had hundreds of similar doors with different numbers on them.
The Joker's eyes were locked on a specific number, door number 704.
When they reached the end of the corridor, they locked him in at the isolation.
It was a very simple room; everything was covered in pillows, to keep him from damaging himself, a large light bulb was in the ceiling, and a rusty entrance to a ventilating shaft.
The Joker sat in the middle of the room, while he was trying to listen to the sounds outside of the room.