This is a back story for The Joker. I'm certain there aren't any certified back stories for him, but there are some out there that are really brilliant. They were talking about making one actually, which should be exciting. I love the character of the Joker because he's so mysterious, different, and interesting. So, here is my back story. It is very graphic and there will be some disturbing parts in this. What could you expect from someone like the Joker though?
"You wanna know how I was born? My mother had me in the tub, see. She never went to a doctor. She had me in the tub and I came right out. I never had any certificate. She had to hide me, see. If she didn't hide me then my father would kill her and myself. She wasn't suppose to have children. No, no children for the happy couple. She had me early. Maybe she was trying to abort me herself. She was poor. No money for a doctor. Though I came popping out, into the tub. She wanted to drown me, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She grabbed me, wrapped me up, ran far, far away, and dropped me off into an alley. How do I know this? She had the gall to leave me a note, explaining her pitiful story, see. She figured someone would come by and pick up the helpless baby. But no one did. Not in this city. At least, no adults. But who should stumble upon me but some street kids? They're looking for food themselves, and would never pick up a stray. And yet one little girl, she was still a little human at heart. She took care of me, only for a little while. Why? I don't even know. Something inside of her? Or maybe it was because she could sit on the side of the road and look like a helpless, twelve-year-old mother. Once I was three, she was gone. I was on my own. The only thing I had with me was the pair of pants I had and my mother's note. Oh, and of course the streets. I had the streets with me all along."
"Want to see a magic trick?"
"Magic?"
"Yeah. I can make your life disappear kid. I can make all the misery disappear for you."
"How?"
"Come with me. We'll make it disappear and we'll play. We'll always play and smile and laugh. Come on. I have other kids whose misery disappeared. Join us. Just take my hand kid."
I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me into his van. There weren't any other kids in the back. "Where are the kids?" I asked.
"They're at the house. They're all playing."
"What games do you have at the house?"
"All sorts of games. Hide and Seek. Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Tag. We play all sorts of games. And we have so much candy, too. Ever had candy kid?"
"I stole some before."
The man driving laughed. "You won't have to steal any candy from me. All you have to do is close your eyes, open your mouth, and I'll put it right in." He looked at me in the rear view mirror. "That should make you smile kid. You have to smile for me or else you don't get to play or eat candy."
I smiled, for him.
We drove miles away from the streets. That's where I had lived forever. I learned how to fight, to steal, to read, to live. Now, I was headed for a new life. One without misery.
We drove through thick trees and to a house hidden away, and old barn next to it. The house was big, but there were bars on the window. He grabbed me and pulled me inside. There was no candy or board games. I saw kids sitting, just sitting, leaning against the walls. Their faces were sunken in, life gone from their eyes. Their rib cages poked out. They were not happy. They were miserable.
"Children!" called the man. "We have a new friend for us to play with. What's your name kid?"
I looked up at him. "I don't have one."
He gasped, a smile on his face. "Then that means you get a name. How about...kid?"
"But you-"
"KID! It's your name! Is that okay with you?"
I nodded, scared.
"Do you know how old you are?"
"Eleven."
"Eleven. What a lucky number. Alright children, I'm going to give Kid some candy. Go to your rooms and play. Be sure to smile and laugh and have fun!"
The children either walked tiredly or crawled, down the hall ways or up the stairs. The man grabbed me and took me into a room that had one couch. "Alright, Kid. I'm gonna give you some candy now. Close your eyes, open your mouth, and just swallow whatever is in your mouth."
I stood there, not doing what he said.
"Do it!" he roared.
I shook my head. "I wanna go back to the streets."
"The streets? Oh no no no. You're staying here. We're going to play and eat candy. Understand?"
"I don't want to."
He grabbed me and threw me onto the ground. "Open your mouth kid!"
"N-"
He grabbed my mouth as it was open from my scream, prying my mouth open with his hands. "If you don't do as I say, I'm gonna kill ya. Got it?"
I nodded, crying. "Good. Now lay there and keep your mouth open. No biting." He towered over me, revealing himself, on his hands and knees he towered over me. He shoved himself into my mouth. I gagged, trying to breath through my nose the best I could. I was choking, the tears streaming down my eyes not stopping him. I did as he said. I swallowed whatever he put in my mouth. He grabbed me when he was finished with me, dragging me to a room and threw me inside. He slammed the door, locking it from the outside. The only thing in there was a person.
"Who are you?" I whispered, shaking and whimpering.
"I'm one of his friends," said the person.
"What's your name?"
"I never had one. He calls me Innocent."
"I...I'm Kid." I looked at the person before me. Skinny, starving, enormous blue eyes, blonde hair. "Are you a boy?"
He nodded.
"It's hard to tell."
"I know." He pushed himself up off the ground, leaning against the wall. "Come here. We're friends now."
I walked over to him and sat next to him. He let me rest my head on him as I sobbed. "How long have you been here?"
"I don't know," he told me. "But I've been here longer than anyone else. Kids come and go. I just stay."
"Why does he do this?"
"I can't answer that. He screams about his parents, about a man named Charlie. I think what he does to us, happened to him."
"He needs to be put out of his misery."
"If you do what he says, you'll live. If not, he'll kill you. That's what he does to the other children."
"I'm not staying here."
"Someone might come for us one day."
"If not, we'll leave."
"We can't."
"I'll find a way. I will one day."
"Wanna know how I got these scars? My good old friend just wanted me to smile, see. If we weren't smiling, he wasn't happy, and his happiness was everything. He pinned me down, see, and grabbed a knife. He told me to smile or else, but I couldn't smile. Not with what he was doing. He sliced my lips. He put on this smile, and now I'm always smiling. He's happy, and as long as he's happy then I'm alive."
"You're my best friend, Kid."
"Never say that in front of him."
"I won't. We have to whisper."
"I am. Innocent?"
"What?"
"What's love?"
He looked at me, tiredly, as I wiped his cut with my shirt. "It's something beautiful."
"Does he love us?" I asked.
"No. He can't feel anything anymore."
"How do you know you're in love?"
"When everything is going horrible, but hope is still there within a person, you love them. They keep you alive, and make you stronger. In a world of darkness, they're the light." He grazed my cheek with his hand. "I love you."
"I...I love you, too."
"You said we'll get out of here."
"We will. We'll be happy together. We'll start a new life, and we'll be happy."
He sat up, looking into my eyes. He glanced to my lips, leaned in, and kissed me. It was the one moment when I felt pure happiness. After having been there for years, after being alive for so long without any joy, that kiss was the only good moment in my entire life.
"What is going on here?"
We pulled apart, glancing at him as he stood in the door. The man who was suppose to be our best friend, caught us kissing. He walked in slowly, glancing from me to Innocent, as if deciding. He suddenly grabbed Innocent, me crying out. I ran after him and tackled him. The three of us fell to the floor and he grabbed me, cutting my lip open again, me screaming. Innocent came up and shoved him. He grabbed the knife and jabbed it right into him, Innocent stopping in his tracks. He pulled the knife out, standing, wiping it at Innocent felt. I crawled to him, looking into his eyes as the light slowly faded from them. "Be happy...for me..." he said, before the light was gone.
The man was cleaning his knife, and I stood up. I smiled at him, him glaring at me. "Let's play a game," I said.
"What?" he asked.
"Let's play." I ran towards him, throwing him down. I grabbed his head and jabbed my thumbs into his eyes, making him scream. I jumped off of him before he could stab me. He stood up, unable to see me, hissing in pain. I jumped around behind him as he stumbled around and I shoved him, grabbing the knife quickly. There were matches in his back pocket and I grabbed them. I lit one, sat over him, and stabbed him. When he screamed, I dropped the match into his mouth. I kept lighting them and setting him on fire until he just lied lifeless on the ground. The room was burning, along with Innocent. I kissed Innocent once before I ran out of the house, dropping matches along the way. I stood outside as I watched it burn. The fires grew, everything erupting in flames. I stood there, and simply watched it all burn.
"Go ahead. Kill me. Kill me now! There's nothing innocent left in the world now! Nothing! Kill me now! Just kill me!"
The Joker took over me. A new persona clawed himself into me, overcoming my mind and engulfing me in his horror. This persona, the Joker, he had problems. He was the memory. The memory of the always smiling and happy child molester. The demented, insane, sick and twisted person over powered me. So there I was, trapped beneath the murdering, insane - but always smiling - freak.
I went to Gotham, having heard of this Batman. I don't know what the Joker wanted. I don't know if he wanted to prove that Batman wasn't a hero, or if he just wanted to kill. He made up these stories, about how I got these scars. Doused with makeup and wearing an old purple suit I had, dying my brown hair green, never washing it. He was a clown, a sick and twisted clown.
In the end, maybe it was for the better. Perhaps, subconsciously I created this Joker to get revenge. Or, maybe, the Joker wanted to kill me and the memory. I wasn't meant to live, or otherwise I was meant to exemplify all the horrors of the world. Abandoned as a baby, used by a girl to make her money, molested for years, and the only good thing that ever happened to me died in front of my eyes. I never understood God or religion, but if there is one out there, I questioned why He never helped me. I had a dousing of hope, but it was gone. Maybe, for things to look good, bad things have to happen. Maybe I was an agent of this so-called god. I was just suppose to show the good and evils of the world, to show the difference.
This Joker was a tool. He killed people, but look at how hope grew. Is this what was suppose to happen?
"Come on. Kill me now. Just go ahead and kill me. I know you want to," said the Joker, standing on the edge of a skyscraper, facing Batman. He backed up, and then he stumbled over the ledge and falling. He was laughing on his way down. Batman tried to catch him, but it was too late. As we were falling, though, he was gone. I was laughing, and remembered that kiss I had with Innocent. I laughed, his image coming closer, and when I hit the pavement, I kissed him again.
I died.
But.
I died with a smile still on my face.
