Disclaimer: I do not own TDK or any part of Christopher Nolan's universe.

R.I.P Heath Ledger - you will be missed.

My theory: Heath Ledger isn't dead. He is simply playing one big joke on America. Probably not true, but I wish it were.

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Here we are again, faced with another impossible situation

Here we are again, faced with another impossible situation. Time is lost once again in my utterly dark mind. Yet, something reminded me that time wasn't an issue anymore. What is time to a person who has no sense of it? Merely, it is an illusion, an unreal illusion that only exists in the reality we make for ourselves. Time isn't of the essence.

For a brief second I could feel my body shaking, as if something dangerous was close by. But, that feeling left as quickly as it came; however, it did take me away from my wonderful dream world. Perhaps, as that man stated earlier, those things were coming out to play. Yawning, I sat myself up on the bench and carefully observed my surroundings to investigate how safe I was sitting there. I saw nothing, only a row of dimly lit street lamps in front of a Duane and Reade convenient store. As well as seeing nothing, I saw no one around the area as well. I was alone. But, I had been alone all my life, so it wasn't a problem.

"Little mind," I thought, my mind effortlessly racing back and forth, "Tricks won't work on me anymore. I'm through with tricks, through with you."

I feel so alone, yet I enjoy this independence from the society I was cast from so many years ago. I thought too much about depressing things, ideas that always kept me thinking, but it was easier for me to understand my existence rather than understand why every person around me called me a freak, an animal without a home to run to. Living on the streets allowed me to become what they truly thought I was: a freak without a face, an invisible form of the malice that palpitates through every one of their minds.

"Well," I shouted, almost laughing at how loud I actually was, "No use crying over spoiled milk. I've got to get on the road and start the show." Standing up, I started to walk away from the only source of comfort I had. I knew it wouldn't last. I wanted to hold on to something warm, but I knew it wouldn't last very long. I'm a drifter who lives in various places. The bench wasn't my home. The city was my home, and the bench – merely a temporary source of comfort. As I walked away, I turned to face the bench once more to look at it one last time before I actually roamed the streets of Gotham. I smiled, waving it goodbye as it were a dear friend who I would never see again. "Bye, bye."

Gotham was just a beautiful as when I left it three years ago to live under my former home. There weren't many people around, but it was enough to understand that some life existed after midnight, or whatever time it was. Every person I saw looked the same in my eyes, twisted and contorted, like a distorted image in my unreal imagination. They were all monsters in my head screaming at me to go away and never come back. But, I knew better. I wouldn't let the monsters win.

"Monsters," I whispered, softly so that only I could hear. "They're all monsters."

From afar, I could make out another bench nearby another coffee shop. However, this one was occupied by a suspicious group of men shadily dressed in nice business suits, almost like the one that man was wearing, but slightly different. Curiosity rising, I walked farther to somewhat make out what they were talking about, seeing as they were almost loud enough for anyone within a three feet of them could clearly hear what they were talking about. When I had reached a safe distance, I listened in on their conversation.

"So Joe," one of the men said as he wrapped his arm around the man beside him, "You think Mr. J will come out tonight?"

"Evan," Joe said, laughing at his friend's comment. "He's an agent of chaos, and also a supplier of "money", as well as other tantalizing things. He said he'd do something tonight, but it didn't seem like he knew what he wanted to do. I guess he'll figure it out soon."

"Seriously Joe," Evan stated, releasing his arm, "I've seen a lotta' freaks, but….the joker…he's different, the worst of us, but more of a freak than a normal man like you and me."

"Evan," Joe began, "I'll agree, he is a freak. But, what other options do we have. He pays in cash…doesn't ask for a lot, just a few sticks of dynamite here and there. Give him what he wants and we get what we've always wanted: cold hard cash."

"Who doesn't want that," Evan stated.

"The Joker obviously wants nothing to do with it."

Laughing, the two men got up from their seats and began to walk down the streets. Standing their, I could every word they spoke. They knew the Joker. In fact, they worked for the Joker, or at least their conversation made it seem like they were on his side. They knew the agent of chaos, knew him for what he really was. But, all of Gotham knew who he really was: a monster. In my mind, however, the Joker was just like me. We we're the same, outcasts with no hope of surviving in a world where everyone disregards your very existence. The Joker simply made the world pay attention to him, like he wanted to scream "I exist!" all over Gotham, and in a way he does scream those words, but with explosives and knives and many other devices. He was the only normal person out there. He hid nothing and shared all of his opinions and beliefs. He was unlike any person in Gotham. He showed a side of himself that most people hide from the world everyday. He, simply, is the true image of what our society would be if all the guns were facing them.

"Mr. J," I said, laughing to myself, "That has a nice ring to it."

Behind all the noise of the city, I heard a quick shot of bullets. And, in an instant, the sound was gone. Every noise was gone except for those bullets repeating their descent into my mind. My body began to shake again, this time in fear of what was to come. Turning around, I faced that fear head on as an eighteen wheeler truck turned and flipped over beside me.

"What in the world," I shouted as I screamed and panicked. "How the hell did that fucking happen?"

First I lose my home, and now I witness this gruesome sight. I knew for a fact that the man inside that truck was either in several places, or slowly dying from the amount of blood he or she was losing. I wouldn't deny my fear. I was afraid, afraid of what happened to the person inside the truck, but also afraid of what could've happened to me had I been a little closer. Then, as if all the life had been taken away from me, I saw the face I'd been thinking about all day. The Joker easily exited the truck, seemingly with no scratches on his body.

"Oh my god," I whispered as I fell to the ground, shocked with what I had just seen. It was the Joker.

It was the Joker…

The Joker….

Joker….

Ha ha ha ehhee hee….