Welcome again.
I just realized I've been talking to you lately and never introduced myself properly. Sorry about that.
You can refer me as…Male Narrator.
For
you, I'm only a shadow walking by your side. My face it's blurred
to you, I'm faceless. You can hear my voice, that's all you need
to know about me.
My mission is to show you around and to
guide you to understand the joke. And to see it. As The Joker told
you last time, this joke has to be seen, not told. You wouldn't
understand in any other way.
So here you are.
This time we're in Harley's room.
She's sleeping, hugging her pillow. Her eyes are sore from crying. You might remember that a few hours ago, she was with The Joker in his private room, he had his fun, used her as he pleased and then kicked her out. She refused to be treated that way, as if she were a tool, and she got slapped.
Poor girl, she feels miserable and rejected, and sincerely I don't blame her. It's horrible how he treats her sometimes. But it's worse that she lets him do it and always forgives him, her mind always makes up a reason for his actions. In her mind, he's always right, no matter what he does.
The worst part? When she's beaten, she feels it's her fault.
Poor girl, so intelligent, beautiful with such a promising future she decided to throw to the garbage for a man that doesn't love anything nor anyone but himself.
She adores him. In some respects, he's her God.
She gave up her life for him-but as Allie The Bitch told you, she can't live without him, she would die of sadness.
That woman, even if most of her so called monologue was self delusion into thinking she's happy... she was right when talking about Harley. Sad as it is, The Bitch was right.
Harley deserves better than being here...
...but she choose this in free will, and these are the consequences.
I know, it's not too entertaining just watching a woman sleeping. But that's exactly why you are here right now, and not when she's fully awake.
We're going into her mind, into her memories. How are you going to do that? Very simple. Just touch her head. Let me remind you, as always, that you don't have a body. Right now, you are mist, lacking even a concrete shape. Last time, to them you were vaguely anthropomorphic. This time you are just the wind. A mist. Something mysterious that just appeared in her room without her even realizing it. Right now, you, a mist--the wind, blow over her head. She feels something cold, but is only for a second, not enough to wake her.
And here we are, standing in the middle of her mind.
Every human mind can be represented, taking different shapes. We can walk through them, see what we need to see. But we always have to be careful in this kind of places, always leave everything as it was. One little thing changing here... and her personality changes.
Now you have a human shape, and here we are, standing in the middle of her mind.
The shape of her mind it's a circular room filled with bookcases from the bottom to the endless roof. And when I say endless it means exactly that. If you try looking to the ceiling, you'll never find it.
The walls of this circular room are fully covered with books of any kind, color and shape, but most of them, as you can see, are red. All in different shades of red: Red for lust, red for love, red for blood. Everything is red.
That's her subconscious, everything she has ever dreamed, thought, those little details she doesn't take too seriously or even notice in her conscious state are here.
Everything since the very moment she was born.
Isn't it funny that being the wife of the so called "agent of chaos" her mind is a place like this, so organized?
No, she's changed since she married him, five years ago. But not enough to be a complete different person from what she was before. This is just a statement that she's not been shaped into whatever he wants her to be: She's still an intellectual, intelligent person. A psychiatrist.
But she likes to hide it behind her cheerful behavior and teenage tendencies. Just an act.
What you see out there is not the truth: what you see here is the Real Harley Quinn. Or Harleen Quinzel.
You see this part? Well, this is her conscious. This one has every color, in every shade...Go ahead! Take a look at them!
There
you have her childhood. Those are pink. Are you interested in those?
No? I guess not.
Over there you have a bunch of blue books. Those are her medical and psychiatric knowledge. They are a little abandoned, but she still uses when she needs them, when she needs to remind herself she's not anyone, she's not a stupid.
Harley Quinn, as innocent she seems, as stupid she might act... she's a genius.
These light blue ones. Take one of them, but don't open it. Their name: "Bastard". No, no The Joker. A different person. Scratched, broken and full of blood. These are the memories of a past relationship she wants to forget, but she cant.
But she's someway relieved when it comes down to that person who broke her life: without him, she wouldn't have met the Joker and life giving the chance of revenge.
Revenge... it's empty happiness. She knows that, she knows she cant mend the past... but everytime she sees him she can laugh at him secretly... not aware both of them are in the same pitiful situation.
And then... a huge purple case. Do I have to explain what those are? I don't think I have to. Those are her memories of the Joker, of her life as Harley Quinn, Clown Princess of Crime.
I
know you might be interested in those, but that's not exactly what
I'm looking for. What I'm looking for is hidden, but it's here
somewhere, it has to be in this bookcase-
Here. A little
black book.
Take it of the shelf, look at its name: Jack and Alicia.
Open it. You'll see what she saw, and how she became to be what she is.
Chapter one: WHY?
He's been out for a week since I broke him out of Arkham. I can't believe I did that, I'm a fugitive now! Why did I do it?! Why?! WHY?
I'm in love.
His eyes.
-Hello. I'm Dr. Quinzel, Director of Arkham Asylum. I decided to take over your case personally, unfortunately I couldn't find anyone capable nor willing to take it. I'm sure I'll make some progress with you.
-Well...hello Beautiful.
-It would be helpful if you call me by my name, and my name is not "beautiful". As i told my, my name is Dr. Quinzel, please refer me by my name.
-But you are beautiful! Have you been told to have the most dazzling eyes and lovely face? Such a shame you're so serious... has something happened to you?
-My personal life is not to be discussed with you. It's unprofessional. And please, call me by my name.
-Which is..?
- Dr. Harleen Quinzel. If you fell more comfortable, you can always call me Harley, everyone does.
-Harley...Quinzel. Harley Quin. Harlequin. Hmm, that's just great, it seems Arkham's got good sense of humor, you like being in theme. We're two clowns in cell. I have the feeling that this is the beginning of a great joke.
-How so? Care to explain why do you see everything as a joke or a game?
- I could...but you wouldn't understand Harley-dear.
-I'm pretty sure I will, don't underestimate me.
- Of course not, doctor! Not in a million years I would underestimate Arkham's director! It's just that I don't fell like talking about that. How old are you beautiful? Always come here?
-We are talking about you Mr...
-Joker.
-I wont refer to you as a playing card, I prefer to have a name to call you by, and you certainly have one. It would be helpful for your recovery to tell me your real name.
-Yes, Joker. Sorry. The Joker.
-That's an alias, not a name. Do you have a name? A real name? Do you understand what that is?
- Of course I understand what a name is. I had one before, but that person is dead and buried. And really boring to tell the truth. So, my name is Joker, nice to meet Dr. Harlequin.
-Dr. Quinzel. If you want to be called that, it's fine. But I wont call you the Joker. I'll call you Mr. J if that's ok with you.
-Which is the difference between calling me as a playing card and a letter, sweetheart?
- I'll ignore whatever you call me. Mister J. And to answer your question, the difference is that way we have much more possibilities. You can be Joe, Jonathan, Joseph, Jack..
-Or the Joker.
-I see, Mr J. Would you care to tell me your age?
- Does it matter?
-Obviously it does, that's the reason I'm asking you.
-I'm 4 years old.
-Really? I would say that you look much older than that.
- How old are you, Dr...Harlequin?
-Dr. Quinzel. And I'm 29.
-You are young and look much younger, and they gave you my case, the Joker's case. I don't want to sound, ya know.. like a pedant, but I can tell that I'm the nuttiest nut in the nuthouse. And you're the Director of Arkham's Asylum, working in The Notorious Joker's case. Soo... does it matter how old are you, anyway? You seem to have enough brains, and I'm sure you have more degrees than the number of fingers in my hands, and as far as I know, those are hard to get... specially being young. So you're a genius, and doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Not that I'm saying I'm not a genius but anyway, you know what I'm talking about. So.. age is it really that important?
- I guess not. But you said you are 4 years old. Do you feel like a child doing mischief? Maybe that's the origin of your alias?
-I'm far too old to be a child. Nothing really surprises me anymore, no after what I saw...but I do feel like a child. And this is my playground, I'm just playing! You all happen to be in my playground... you're my puppets... but you're not a puppet, are you? No... you're a doll... not only a pretty one, but intelligent as well... Dr Quinzel... do you believe in love at first sight? Because I do... I just felt in love with a beautiful Barbie Doll... so intelligent, so pretty... if you accept, we'll go to Las Vegas and get married! NOW!
-I don't believe in love at first sight. I'll ignore the last comment.
- What if I offer you something I never told anyone? Would you at least think about it.
- I'd like to hear what you have to say, after all that's why I'm a psychiatrist. But I wont think about it, I'm sorry.
-Ahhh... that's what you say now. But i can offer you what nobody in the world can. The truth... the real nature of the universe and how it works... don't you think that with that kind of knowledge... Einstein, who's that guy?
- You don't have that knowledge.
- I don't lie... Look at my eyes...you know I'm a man of my word.
It was truth.
He had all the secrets of the universe locked in just his eyes. it was one second. Just one second.
Time
is not lineal, not in his eyes. in his eyes time doesn't have rules,
I could see the begriming of the universe and the last second of it,
and everything in between.
I saw myself reflected in them,
like mirrors...but they didn't reflect me,They reflected the whole
universe. I saw everything, I saw my whole life. I saw the everything
reflected in his eyes. I saw my childhood. Every book I read. I saw
my first kiss. I saw my favorite color and every shade of it. I saw
all the secrets of the world hidden in his eyes.
I even saw my own death... because I knew his eyes would be my death.
I saw myself…and I saw true freedom. Not the freedom everybody talks about. I saw what's living without rules, I saw myself in his arms, I saw happiness. Real happiness. Pure bliss. And at that moment, I understood... that my life would never be the same anymore. In a second, the first second my eyes met his, I got every answer to every question ever asked by humankind. Overwhelming. I couldn't take it. It was...infinite. That's what I saw, I saw everything. EVERYTHING.
I looked away, it was too much for me. Yet in the very instant I tore my eyes from his, I forgot. I forgot everything. I never felt the same. I felt something was missing in my life. I don't know what it was…but I suspect it was that feeling. After that, normal happiness, the one we are told to long for, is just dull and never fulfilling. And from that very second, I always felt cold, as though something was...gone. I knew everything, and I forgot.
My money, my penthouse, my degrees and everything I had achieved in life suddenly seemed to be worthless. Everynight I was there, watching TV, reading a book and I felt bored, sorrow, solicitude. It was painful, like a sword stabbed into my heart, making me drown in my own blood, in my own sadness.
Everyday, I had to see him. everyday, he told me a joke. Sometimes, as stupid the joke was, it seemed there was a secret meaning in it, something us mortals cant understand, and some way he had stolen from the Gods just to tell me, his doctor, in the form of simple jokes.
Every time I could, I tried to look again for those answers. I never found them. But I know that someday, someday…I will be able to look into those brown eyes and see it all again.
Then I understood: Everything was a joke, and he wasn't a clown. I was. I was a clown, pretending and thinking myself important and above the rest of the common people when I was a nobody. And he was trying to teach me to stop behaving like a stupid and start behaving like what I truly was since the moment he had showed me the truth: A free person.
So Many rules to be followed in order to what? To die one day and be forgotten? To simply disappear in the infinite sea of time?
No.
I was a free person, a real person. I wasn't a puppet controlled by
rules. Not anymore. I was free, he cut my strings and and for six
months treating him I refused to let go of my strings. In a single
look he had cut them and set me free.
What a waste of time,
I should have broken him free before.
I couldn't see such a force of nature condemned to a straight jacket. No. He wasn't crazy. He was...wise. the wisest man on earth. He was god. He was the devil. Maybe both...
Unprofessional
as it is...I fell in love, and it killed me every time I had to see
him caged like a wild animal. He should be out, free, spreading his
misunderstood knowledge. I wanted to learn. He was my professor, the
professor that in one look back then had promised me everything. And
I wanted it.
So I broke him out.
And
he looked at me again. it wasn't the same, but it was close.
Never
close those eyes,
never...
He kissed me. and then...I felt true happiness for the first time in my life. I didn't see it. I felt it. And I knew...I wouldn't go back to my empty life. This was real life. His eyes.
Chapter two: Who is she?
He came back after a week. I'd been waiting for him for this whole week in a warehouse. It didn't feel like a warehouse, it felt like home. It wasn't the place, it was him. no matter the place, my home was him.
And then, the door was opened wide, rays of sunlight entering into this dark place. I saw him. He was not alone. She was there.
She was quite short, shorter than me. She had bright red hair, over her jaw, a complete disaster, a mess. And brown ayes. Just like his. Pale skin, too pale... some scars as a reminder of a bad case of acne during her teen days. Really skinny, fragile. Heart shaped face. She looked somewhere in her late twenties. And she was laughing. Small lips. Painted red, bright red. She had over-sized clothes. A man suit. Red and white. Much like his. First time I saw her, I could have swear she was a short man. She was not.
She was a woman.
And she was hugging him. and he was hugging her back. They behaved like two old friends. They looked at each other, she said something, I think it was "you won, you won!" and punched him in his arm, he laughed louder and told her in a sing-song voice "loser, looooooser".
His laugh. It wasn't the same, there was something different.
He was truly happy, still there was bitterness in his voice. Like something bad had happened... and I wasn't going to know what it was.
And then she noticed me. She smiled. A sincere smile...
But who was she?
-Well, hello. You must be Harley Quinn, right?
-Doctor Harleen Quinzel.
-Oh, sorry, you're right. Dr. Harleen Quinzel. I apologize. Jay's been talking about you all day long.
-I see... may I ask who are you?
-Oh sorry, how rude of me! I'm Queen of Hearts, Hearts for short. Although jay over there calls me Queenlier for some reason. Nice to meet you. I'm the Joker's associate.
-Hey, Hearts, wanna a beer?
- Shut it! You know I cant drink alcohol! And you shouldn't!
- What are you now, my mom? You shut it, bitch!
- Ok, stop it with calling me Bitch. I'd like to make a toast, if you don't mind. Dr. Quinzel?
- I think so, yes.
- A toast... for this company which is growing and the new addition to it, Dr. Quinzel. I'm really glad you're here and part of this Company, or should I say Family.
- Yes, welcome toots!
- I... I'm sorry, but which is my purpose in this company, as you said?
- You're my girlfriend... and our shrink.
- And what does she do?
- Me? Nothing really important... I manage the financial part of the company. Let's say I'm an accountant... of sorts.
Chapter three: Confused.
From that day... I simply wasn't sure why I was there. I didn't feel as though I belonged. It was weird. I felt...uncomfortable, out of place. Sometimes, I wanted my old life back. I wanted to be somewhere else, to be far far away from them. They were criminals. For the first time after that week alone, I realized the truth: I was living with two criminals. A sociopath, psychotic clown who murdered for fun. A terrorist. She was... I don't know exactly what she did, but I knew she was up to no good. Hearts was always working in her laptop, a smirk in her mouth. She talked a lot...about a lot of things. I don't remember everything, but I do remember her saying something about killing a woman with a spoon, puking her eyes out. She sounded so full of herself. Mr. J said that he didn't believe her.
She said she could give him a "proof"... and he made me go with him to see it. it happened in the warehouse where the army stayed. An empty room, a man tied up to a chair.
-C'mon! Do it if you can!
-Just a second, you're so impatient. I've told you for years to learn to be patient... and besides, if I do it quickly it's not the same.
And there I was standing, next to the man I love... seeing how that woman, disgusting, cold, nasty, unfeeling talked smugly to the poor man, made him cry telling him what she had done to his family without a trace of remorse. A horrible story... lies. She smiled down to him, and told him not to worry because she was just seeing how he reacted, if he had balls to belong to the organization. The man looked relieved at her and muttered "thank you".
She said he failed the exam... took a silver spoon out of her pockets and puked his eyes out smoothly, the man cries piercing my ears, her voice silent while performing the task and The Joker laughing at it.
And my cries of utter horror. I've never seen first hand such an act of cruelty... unfortunately it wouldn't be the first time.
- Hey, Queenie?
- What?
-You did that to his family right?
- Oh, you know me well. Of course I did... I just wanted him to die relieved and happy. Am I not a merciful person?
I was in shock. I couldn't believe it, she was toying with the man's eyes in her bloody hands completely cold, as if it were normal. She took a handkerchief of her pocket and cleaned her hands. Mister J laughed, and soon she joined him. they looked at me expecting me to say or do something. I laughed with them. not of happiness neither joy. I laughed at myself. How could I be so stupid? I laughed and cried at the same time. I cried at my deceased life.
Everyday, she was working in the kitchen with her laptop, never separated of it. Always, under her arm, wherever she went, she had a computer around. It didn't take a genius: she was a hacker.
I started to analyze the behavior of their employees (I don't want to say my employees because I don't want to take part of this nightmare).
Only two of them ever approached them, and most of the time, they talked to her. they seemed to be at ease with her, who often invited them to the kitchen and offered a drink while they talked.
But they never approached the Joker. They didn't dare to step close to him. they were afraid.
She was some kind of politician, always saying what people wanted to hear, respected not only by fear but also by what she offered: money. She always offered money. A briber, a blackmailer.
I was a hostage. I was not one of them, I was not a criminal. I was a stupid, naive woman who broke loose this maniac just for a look that promised me the world. I was a fool. But I couldn't leave. Not when he had me in his arms, not when he kissed me, not when we made love. Pure bliss.
Yet I was confused. Why was I here?
Chapter three: He cheated on me.
The
title explains everything. I was told from the day she stepped into
the warehouse that his room was forbidden for me until he said so. He
said he needed his personal space, not used to sleep with someone
everynight. I understood at the time.
But there was another
reason: Queen of Hearts, the Queen of Bitches. I don't know what
pushed me to enter at night into his bedroom in the first place. I
think I had decided to leave and I wanted to tell him.
But then... then I saw them under the blankets. He was sleeping on his back, and a little red head was in his chest. His arm was around her waist. And she was hugging him. they seemed happy, as if they were used to sleep together everynight.
In that moment I truly hated her. She would die. In that moment, I realized I could never, would never leave his side. And I wasn't going to share. He was mine and only mine. I broke him out of Arkham, what did she do to have his love? Why? Why was she sleeping with him? That should be me! She is a dead woman. I'll kill her, and he will be only mine! MINE!
The next morning everything was normal. Like nothing had even happened. Did they share his bed every night? Would it be more appropriate to call it "their bed"? I hated her. And as hours passed my hatred only increased until I wanted to see her blood, bright and red as her dyed, disgusting hair splattered all over the floor...
It wasn't hard to find a gun. They were all over the place and after seeing them for a three months, every day, loading guns and aiming them at random objects (and people) I figured out how to load one... and how to shoot it.
If I was living with criminals-if he was sleeping with a criminal, if he preferred a criminal - then why not become one?Maybe that way he would love me? Maybe he'd love me and only me if I could prove myself as a criminal with murder?
Should I torture her also? She certainly deserved it, and after all, he seemed to love her because she was, in some twisted way, like him.
If
I became like him, like her, would he love me as much as he seemed to
love her?
Then suddenly it became too obvious, and I felt
stupid. They were obviously lovers, they knew each other too well,
she wasn't afraid of him, she even had the guts to start playing with
him as if they were two children, two lovebirds that played together
around the warehouse, betting over almost everything, laughing. The
way they looked at each other... it was simply too obvious.
They were not simple lovers: They were husband and wife.
I entered her private room. I had the pleasant surprise to find her asleep. Alone. She was not with him. They didn't share the bed every night... but the did share it. Even once was enough. I cocked the gun and place it to her temple. Her eyes were wide open.
Chapter four: Alicia and Jack.
-You are going to die tonight Queen of Hearts. "Off with your head!"!
-Harley?
-Yes, me. I've had enough of you. Enough!
-Wait. Why do you want to kill me, I though we were friends, I...
-I'm not you friend! Stop trying to manipulate me into thinking that!
-Ok, I'm sorry Harley, you are right, you're too smart to fall into...
-Stop it with your manipulation! I know what you are trying to do!
-Ok. I'll stop. Just one question, then go ahead and pull the trigger. No problem there. I just want to know.
-Go ahead, you'll be dead in 5 minutes.
-Harley...Why? What have I done to you? I've always been ni..
-Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I don't see how you look at him? The way you two behave?
-What are you talking about?
-You and Mister J.
-What...? We're just associates, and we're good friends, that's all!
- Liar! You both are lovers, I saw you! Don't deny it! You were sleeping with him last night, I saw you in the same bed with him! That's what normal associates do, Your Highness?
-No, You don't understand, you're wrong!
-Don't understand what? That you are trying to take him away from me? that? I'm not stupid, Hearts! Mark my words for the rest of your life, which is a very short time: I'M NOT STUPID!
-But I thought...I thought he trusted you.... he never told you about the...scars?
-He did! He trusts me! And he loves me! He told me everything about the scars!
-If you're trying to kill me...then he didn't tell you the whole story.
I started to punch her, that woman didn't deserve a simple bullet, she deserved to be tortured. How dare she say imply he didn't trust me? She was nothing without a weapon but a mere woman, small, freakingly skinny, looking more like a terminal disease patient than a proper woman.
Why?! I am a real woman, a beautiful woman, intelligent and clever, she's nothing but a psychopath! WHY WHY WHY would he love her? he wanted a psycho, I would turn myself into a psycho if he wanted me to! I'm better, I'm prettier, I'm more intelligent, I achieved things in life! She was a nobody appearing from thin air with thinking herself important! Punches, kicks, slaps, whatever I could do, she cried for me to stop and I would never stop until I killed her with my bare hands. She defended herself as she could, she grabbed a glass of water, I was faster than her and crashed her hand, breaking her fingers in the process.
That was it.
I placed the gun in her head again and whispered to her ear, while she tried not to cry out of pain.
-He told me enough! He told me how his father killed his mother in front of him, and then...that!
-Mommy? mommy's dead! – her voice was totally different from her usual tones. Filled with horror and confusion. What was going on?
-What are you talking about, bitch?!
I slapped her again, whatever she was trying to play at, I wasn't going to fall into her lies.
-Oh Jack...you're always trying to save me, you're always so nice...daddy don't! Don't! JACK JACK! – she started shouting desperate, her eyes filled with fear. What was she trying to do? Who was Jack?
-What, what? What are you doing? Hearts?!
-Mommy, mommy... Oh god, poor Jack, poor Jack, poor Jack... – she hugged her knees and started trembling. She didn't seem to mind about her broken hand. She started to sob as a child, fully crying.
-Okay, I don't understand. What are you trying to say?-
-Jack save me! no Dad! don't do that! please, please, please don't daddy! Don't touch me don't touch there! god please save me I'll be good little girl... I don't want to! don't touch me! don't! DON'T! – she was terrified.
Totally terrified. I've seen people under the influence of the Scarecrow's fear gas...this was no different from that. It was as if she was having an hallucination, looking scared to death, staring at the wall. I dropped the gun, she was not afraid of it. This was something else.
-Hearts, look at me!
-No, No No !- She was fully crying by now, her ayes filled with tears.
Then I realized what was happening. She was having a regression. It wasn't fake. It was real. Nobody could act that look. It was real.
-Hearts, look at me, it's not real, your dad isn't here, come on, look at me, it's Harley, do you remember me? – I tried to take her mind of whatever was scaring her so much.
What had her father done to terrify her so much? And who was Jack?
- Ha..Harley? Who are you miss? You're so pretty, I like you hair. I'd like to be blond, like mommy...- she looked at me as if it was the first time. She had a big smile in her mouth. she was still afraid, trembling, but obviously feeling more secure.…then-it hit me: I wasn't talking to the manipulative bitch that tried to take the Joker from me.. I was talking to a child.
-I'm a friend. I won't hurt you..
-Miss Harley please don't leave, please don't! He'll come and get me, I don't want daddy here, he will...please take me away, save Jack, save him please!- She hanged desperate on my neck and started crying all over again, begging me to save this "Jack" guy.
-Listen to me: your daddy isn't here, he can't hurt you... - I tried to calm her down. It seemed to work, she loosened her grip on me.
-He isn't? He isn't here? But I could feel his hands all over...don't leave me alone! Protect me from him! Call the police! Before he comes here and he... – she was still crying, this time not totally desperate, simply sad and trying to get help. She, a criminal, was telling me to call the police. This was not an act. This was real.
-Ok, I'll stay with you. Let's talk about something else..who is Jack?
-He tried to, he tried to stop him, but he couldn't, he..he...was late, too late, TOO LATE! – she shouted and started to sob in my chest
-Sweetie, come here, don't be afraid, I'll stay with you. Tell me...how old are you?- I pitied her...I forgot about her sleeping with Mister J. What had happened to her to be this way? What had triggered this awful regression?
-Twelve, I'm twelve ma'am.
-Ok, tell me about your daddy, what happened sweetie?
-He came back home from the office, dad works a lot, a lot , a lot... –now she was sitting straight, her eyes wide open. Like she was under the influence of hypnosis.
-Ok, so you daddy came back from the office. What happened then?
- I...I'm alone in the kitchen. I got home late from school... but I got an A in math! and I'm so happy! I tell him "Look dad! I got an A! I got an A!"
-You... were happy about that?
-Yeah... I've been always bad at math, and I want daddy to be proud of me...he said that if I got an A he'd buy me a red dress... the one I saw that day in the mall...
-What happened?
-He...he is...not ok. Weird. I ask him about the dress. "Daddy will you buy it for me?" And he comes to me and he tells me that I'm really cheerful and that I smile too much...and that I'm annoying. But he also tells I'm really pretty when my little eyes shine from happiness...
-Go on, sweetie.
-He tells me I have mommy's eyes...and then he...he kisses me, he tells me "I love you" I love daddy too...I was wearing a white dress that afternoon...he picked me up and threw me to the table...he touched my legs and... I don't like what he's doing, no... I tell him to let go, I try to break free... he slaps he and my head hurts, he crashes my head against the table, over and over again, he lifts my dress and ...NOOOOO, please daddy! , No don't do it, don't don't! I'll be a good girl, but no, PLEASE, NO!!!!-
Raped. She had been raped by her father. Oh God.
-Calm down calm down...I understand...
-His hands...his hands...I...I... – she trembled and started to touch her mouth, her neck...her legs..
-It's ok, I understand, what happened next?
-Jack...he, he comes back from school.
-Who is Jack sweetie?
-My older brother. And he is tall... he has brown eyes like mine!- now she sounded happy and stopped trembling. She smiled like a little girl, exactly like a little girl. She obviously loved her brother, she sounded so happy talking about him.- People say that we look alike! But I don't think so! I'm much prettier! And he's so nice, so nice, he tries to stop him, he tries to.-Now she was like before. Empty. -Dad stops. He hits me hard in the head. It hurts so much...everywhere...so much... He...lets me out. I fall on the table, near a knife...its shiny...like a mirror..I have a bruise in my forehead and it's really ugly. Jack is very angry. And serious. He tries to beat him, he tries to punch him and kick him and.. but dad...he is really big, really big... bigger than him. And then, he takes out a knife from the kitchen and he tells him..."why so serious, son?"
-God... –Had that man killed his own son after raping her daughter? Poor children...
-He tells him that and then he says "let's put a smile in that face!" Jack screams real loud... and there is a lot of blood, red, everything's red, so red, red...
-Ok sweetie. What did you do? Did you call the police? – Oh, please tell me you called the police and they saved your brother, please say that..
-He screams very loud, very loud, hurting my ears, and then... I don't remember.
-Do you remember what happened next?
-No?
-Try to remember what happened next, sweetie. Please try
-I..I have blood in my hands...and the knife it's red...its not shiny anymore...and daddy's not breathing, he doesn't move. I run to Jack...he is in the corner...in the floor...and I have a knife, and his shirt...is all red, all red, everything so red... – had she killed her father? This was getting worse...and worse...
-What happened to Jack? Did he die? Did you call the police?
-No, he...he... takes care of me, he's my angel, he'll always be my angel, always smiling...!- now she smiled from ear to ear and her eyes shone from happiness. Her brother had died. She said he was "her angel". The poor boy had died trying to defend her. This story was the sickest thing I had ever heard. If she killed her father...that guy really deserved it.
-Shh, I understand sweetie, I understand... – I hugged her. I don't think any psychiatric theory or drug that would ever help her…. And if there is one...I'm sure it doesn't cover a situation quite like this.
-Do you? I...I...Harley, what happened? – her voice changed. Not a child anymore. A grown up woman
-Queen of Hearts?
-Yeah? Didn't you have a gun in my head? That's right! You were going to kill me. Go ahead!- She said with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. Didn't she...?
-No, No... do you remember the last minutes?
-No? Did you hit me on the head? And you broke my hand! It hurts a lot! If you're going to kill me do it fast, would you? Or is this one of those things where you want me to suffer first?, if you want to prove yourself as a torturer do it good, punches and kicks... I don't even remember why you want to kill me..
-No, you told me about your brother... – I felt exhausted.. emotionally tired. I entered the room wanting to kill her, and now I only wanted to tell her that everything would be alright...even if i couldn't mend the past.
-I told you what? No! Please don't tell me I had a regression again!- she sounded totally surprised and embarrassed.
-You told me about your father... – my voice felt empty. I felt empty. And guilty.
-Oh fuck! I hate when I have those black outs, I behave like a little kid, hahaha and you're a psychiatrist! So what did I say? No, let me guess: I screamed a lot for daddy to let me go, right? Or just screamed, or what was it this time? – she was furious, livid and it seemed like she was going to cry again.
-You told me...you told me that...
-That son of a bitch raped me, you can figure that out, right?....Fuck, Harley, what did you do? My head! It hurts like hell! Fuck! why the hell did you have to ask about that? and you broke my hand! What the hell did I do to you? Are you crazy?
-I asked you a few questions...I...
-Harley, will you ever stop trying to analyze people? Ok, sure it was interesting, right? I guess I can't blame you.
-You told me about Jack...
-Who? What are you talking about?-she showed a little and nervous smile. A tic. It was a tic.
-Jack, he tried to save you...
-Oh, fuck! Why did you have to ask me about that?
-You were calling for him, and you...
-Ok. It would be really stupid to hide this at this point. Last thing I remember is you telling me that you saw me sleeping with Jay and you were angry about it. I respect you, and you deserve a good explanation for this. Did you figure out who Jack is?
-He was your brother...did he die?
-In some twisted way, we both died that day.
-You're trying to tell me...to tell me that... – she was saying that...?
-The Joker is my brother. That's why sometimes I sleep near him, after that...I slept next to him for years, I think until I turned 20. I know it's stupid, but it makes me feel safe. I have these regressions of that day sometimes... and I need my "security blanket" if you want to call it that. I feel so dumb! I cant believe I had a breakdown in front of you! – she sounded so embarrassed, oh God poor girl, poor Joker, this was terrible...
-It's ok, I won't tell anything, he'll never find out that you...
-No, he will. I'll tell him. I guess he wanted to tell you the truth... but he decided to replace his sister for our mother... It's embarrassing for him not to... have saved me. He's my brother. He deserves to know. And I'll only say this once...he loves you. HE LOVES YOU. And if you hurt him, if you leave, I'll hunt you down. I'll find you and you'll ask me to kill you because I'll make you suffer unimaginably. That's a promise, and like my brother, I'm a woman of my word. I've seen a lot women in his bed. A LOT. And they never survived the night. NEVER. You're here after three months 'cause he loves you. I see it in his eyes. I know my own brother, we've always been together except those few months we were apart-during his stay in your little asylum. I was planing to break him out. You did it first. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate that. I do...But that doesn't mean that I'll forgive you if you hurt him. I WONT. So...DO...YOU...LOVE..HIM?
-Yes, I love him! I just realized how much I do. He, tried to save you, I'm so sorry that you both...
- DO YOU LOVE HIM?!
-Yes!
-ARE YOU SURE? ARE . YOU . SURE?!
-YES POSITIVE. I LOVE HIM, I LOVE HIM! – I started crying. how not to love a man who tried to do the impossible to save his little sister? How not to love a man who was so wise...?
- That's my girl! Good to hear that, really. You know.. we've been together all our lives, I know him. And I never saw that look in his eyes, the way he looks at you. He may act cold, and he may..hurt you physically, he just doesn't know...how to treat a lady, how to express his feelings, all he knows is violence. Like me, the difference is that he has a reminder of that day, and he's furious...he hates himself. He hates that he couldn't save me that day-
I know he loves you back, I was so afraid that you would leave, I don't think he could stand that, he would probably kill you, and then kill himself. I don't want to see my brother that way. I don't want him to die.
-I didn't' know...
-Of course not, he's that way. I think you need to hear what happened next. Do you want to know?
-I'd rather not. I think this is enough for today.
-There you are again, talking like a good psychiatrist. You never stop doing that, do you?
-I don't know....
-It's ok. But remember, we are family, you don't need to pretend. You are free here. Excuse me, but I need to talk to... Ja.. the Joker, I don't feel like sleeping alone tonight. I hope you can understand.. plus, I need to mend my hand... I'll say I had an accident, so he doesn't turn to you and... beats you.
-Thanks.. I'm sorry Hearts, I didn't know...
- It's ok, not like the first time I break my hand.. it's just one finger actually, the rest are small pieces of glasses, don't worry..
-Just one question?
-Tell me.
-What's your real name?
-Was. I stopped being that person a long time ago. But it was Alicia.
-Jack...and Alicia.
-Never say those names ever again. They're dead. Now...it's just The Joker and Queen of Hearts. He always liked to make pranks, always a funny guy... such a great sense of humor! And I always loved the "Alice" books, although I think I'd prefer to be the one saying "off with their heads" than the one having her head in a plate.
-I see...I'll, I'll never bring up the subject again.
-It's OK, I'll tell him that you know. I'll make sure he doesn't get angry at you for this.
-Thanks.
-Welcome to the family, Harley dear.- she smiled sadly at me, and closed the door.
The end
Now, if you turn the last page of this little book, you'll find a letter. It's not sealed.
Go ahead, open it.
"In
this letter I give myself to a cause worthy of my life. My mind, soul
and body. I give my life to them. To save them from themselves.
They
didn't have a mother to protect them from the outside world. Nobody
to go to when their lives broke apart. Nobody there to save them when
her father raped her and cut his face wide open. Nobody there when
they were kicked, beaten and abused...
Everybody see them as
monsters...but they are not. They're just children of the streets,
children of violence and chaos. Society deserves what it's getting
from these poor children. Did someone come to their rescue during her
rape? Only her brother. And he got scarred for the rest of his life.
Nobody came to help them. Nobody tried. Nobody cared.
They
lost themselves in madness. In chaos. But they were just kids trying
to play. I accept that they are highly intelligent, skilled and
dangerous kids. Sometimes down-right deadly. They don't know the
meaning of empathy, sympathy or love. They don't understand.
Nobody
taught them. I will at least try.
They are only playing,
just children trying to have some fun. But they think that "fun"
is equal to blood, fire, and manipulation. Their fun consists of
sadism. But I know that deep down, they are just misguided children
trying to regain their childhood. That's all.
We just
happen to be in their playground, and for them we're
simply...dolls. And they just happen to be playing with gun powder,
gasoline, and knives. With fire. With people's hearts, fears and
secrets mixed with bullets. People's souls.
But they're
just children. Gotham's their playground.
Tonight, I saw
beyond their facade. I saw beyond the criminal and the
terrorist.
They are just two siblings, two little children
terrified of reality, defending themselves from a world that's
shown it's back to them. They are scared and hanging on each other
for dear life, just trying not to die. Nobody ever set any limits,
any rules, any guidelines...
They need a real mother. I'll
provide for them.
They need a teacher. I don't care-I'll
do the dirty job.
I can't change their past, but I'll try
to give them a better future...
And I love him. I love him
because he tried to save her. Because he tried to do what's right.
And he couldn't. I love him because he's wise. He'll teach me to
be free and happy, and I'll teach him to love and care in return.
I'll be his mother...and his wife. He's my little Puddin', I'll
give him all the love that he deserves....And I'll never leave him.
No matter what. It's a promise.
Harley
Quinn"
Interesting? Hopefully, yes.
But remember, this is part of her conscious.
Let
me show you a little part of the subconscious. Not too much, it
doesn't really make much sense. I won't let you read too much, sorry.
I would be a terrible guide to lose you to this madness. The
subconscious is a dark place, unintelligible, impossible to
understand. Here, you'll find everything. Everything since the her
first minute on this earth. It's huge, I know. Impressive how much
the human mind can store...
Right here. See that big,
deep-red book? Take it from the shelf. Be careful, it's a
little...slippery. Open it and try to read the first paragraphs as
fast as possible before it melts.
Read it. It's handwritten in red...ink.
Title: Queen of Hearts
"-
oh! And the Oscar for best actress in the role of a little
traumatized girl goes to...QUEEN OF HEARTS! HAHAHAHAHA....
I
hate her, off with her head, I hate her, off with her head, I hate
her, off with her head, I hate her off with her head, I hate her, off
with her head, I hate her, off with her head, I hate her, off with
her head, I hate her, off with her head...."
Close it-quickly. You won't find anything different there...or in any of the other books named "Queen of Hearts."
At least not in her subconscious.
Let's go, that's all you needed to see here.
Now you are standing by her side. She's still asleep. You've been here for just... two seconds.
Oh, sorry, I forgot!
You should have used gloves, I forgot to tell you! How incredibly stupid of me!
That last book was made of blood. Thick, warm, red blood.
A Queen's blood.
AN: I didnt change this chapter too much. I would aprecciate if you let me know if you like the smcall changed I made, and if you're a new reader if you like the story so far.
Next chapter will be The Joker's mind.
Thanks for reading, and thanks to those who left reviews ^^
PLEASE LEAVE REVIEWS! (They make my day, and I'm still depressed)
