I would like to thank Miss Tiger's Eye of Gold for her wonderful picture of chapter three's card scene! Here's to seeing more of them!
Chapter 4
When Dolly first woke up, she felt sick. Then she turned over and felt a jolt of pain on the left side of her chest, and gasped, her hand flying to her wound. She was still in the clothes she was in yesterday, and her tank was still spit open in the front, but at the moment, all she could think about was getting to a bathroom to vomit. She got as far as sticking her head out the door before she had to clutch the door frame and support herself from falling while she threw up on the floor.
She coughed and spit before stumbling forward and walking into someone, then fell back to the floor, holding onto her stomach.
The Joker eyed down at her, then at the mess she had made behind her. "...You certainly made a mess, didnt you?" he said as though talking to a five-year-old. He bent down to grab her arm and stood her up before depositing her non-too-gently on the couch and leaving her for a moment. Dolly groaned as a headache added on to the pain in her chest and stomach and leaned her head into the back of the couch.
The Joker came back with a glass of water, and dropped a pill into it before handing it to her. Dolly took it and drank it without a second thought, and drank it all in one go before going still again. After a few minutes, she began to feel a little better. Her captor arched a brow and sat down across from her.
"You're too comfortable here," he said, staring at her. Dolly was still a little too hazed to tell what his expression was, but she got what he was saying, and shrugged.
"Cant help it," she found herself saying. "Better than..." She broke off, looking at the wall across the room. The Joker blinked and a hint of a smile curled from under the makeup.
"No...please go on..." he said, leaning back and putting his hands together. Dolly looked over at him, her eyes narrowing.
"My life story isnt one for some crazy psycho's amusement!" she snapped, giving herself another headache. All hint of a smile vanished from the Joker's face as a switchblade found itself into his hand.
"I dont like being called 'crazy'. I am not crazy." Dolly could almost taste the malice in his voice as his thumb played with the latch to flip the switchblade open. She turned her head to look at him.
"...You really could have fooled me," she said, her words somewhat slurred from the remaining morphine's effects. Whether or not the Joker knew or cared about that fact, he didnt show, but instead he shot up and pinned her to the back of the couch by her injured side and flipped the switchblade open and pressed the blade to her neck.
"You're skating on rapidly melting ice, kid," he hissed, his voice low and malicious. He pressed the blade into her skin. "You would do well to remember that you are being held here by someone who doesnt give a shit if you live or die, so you had better watch that pretty little mouth of yours."
Dolly shifted her eyes down to the blade, then looked back at him in the eye and then pressed her neck into the blade, drawing a thin line of blood. "If you're going to threaten me with a knife," she said softly, though her voice was filled with acid. "You might as well cut me a little." The Joker looked at the trickle of blood on his blade with fractionally widened eyes and withdrew his blade from her skin.
"...And you called me crazy?" he said, wiping the blood off of it on the cloth of the couch and flicked it shut before letting her go and sitting back down across from her. "You're the one acting like a resident in the current home of your abductor. I only wished to know why."
Dolly brushed the blood off of her neck and wiped her hand on the couch. "I would tell you...but I can tell that you're not the kind of person who gives a rat's ass about every Harry Hard Luck or Suzy Sob Story tale..." She eyed him. "...Am I right?"
The Joker arched a brow and leaned back. "Right you are," he replied. "But that doesnt mean I dont enjoy a good story." Dolly sighed and turned so she was sitting back on the couch.
"...Fine," she replied. She picked up her glass. "You got anything else to drink in here?"
"We've got beer..."
"I dont drink."
"Milk."
"I'm lactose intolerant."
Sigh. "Water?"
"There you go."
The Joker made a sound in the back of his throat and walked over to an old fridge and pulled out a bottled water and tossed it over the the couch to land beside her. Dolly picked it up and opened it, then took a long drink while the Joker sat back down on his seat across from her.
"Thank you," she said, putting the half-empty bottle on the couch next to her. The leaned back and sighed. "What do you want to know?" The Joker looked thoughtful for a moment.
"...You were about to mention something about something 'better than...'...what was that?" Dolly shifted on the couch and bit her lip, as though she were about to say something she really didnt want to.
"...Being here..." she said slowly. "...Is better than home."
There was a moment of silence following, then the Joker gestured with his hand. "Go on."
Dolly poked at the bottle of water next to her. "What else is to go on with?" she said. "I'm treated better here than I am at home. At least you give me attention and every word out of your mouth isnt demeaning or insulting. At least after you cut me up, you stitch me back together. At least you let me know when you're going to hurt me...at least you dont beat me in my sleep..." As she spoke, her voice stayed strong, but her eyes were swirling with darkness, a look the Joker knew all too well.
"...My mother is completely dependent on my father," she continued. "Even though I see her cringe every time he beats at me, but she doesnt so much as help me up after he's done. She does everything she can to make sure he's happy, but doesnt even give me a passing glance when I have to blow what small bit of money I have on concealer so no one will find out...Even when he pushed her down the stairs when she was pregnant with my little brother so that we 'wouldnt waste anymore money'...
"As for my father...what hasnt he done to hurt me?" She looked at the Joker with hardened eyes. "You want to know why I'm so calm here? It's because anything you do to me, he's already done." She made a soft 'pfft' sound. "Other than rape me or kill me, he hasnt fallen demented enough to do that yet, though his bastard brother is coming close..." She pulled up her zip-up hoodie to show off her stomach, which had a long, huge scar running across her stomach. "When I was ten, my father took a knife to me. At the hospital, he told the doctors it was a man who had broken into our house and I surprised him. This is just one of many." She put her hoodie down.
"My father has burned me, hit me, whipped me, starved me, attempted to drown me, choked me, and pushed me off of more than one staircase. The only reason why I'm nineteen and still in high school is because he pushed me out a window and I was put into a coma for eight months." She made another sound. "And his excuse for that one was that I was roughhousing around with the dog. We didnt fucking have a dog!"
She broke off for a few moments before continuing.
"...I'm a good girl," she said. "I make all As and Bs in school. I have an IQ of 138. I've never touched beer or drugs, and I'm working two jobs to pay for food and a psychology and sociology class at the Gotham Community College. I never touched a gun, and I have never used a knife for anything other than cooking. I want to be a psychologist so that I can help other kids that have been through what I've been through--or worse--and who didnt come out of it as strong as I have. So...why?" She looked up at the Joker, her eyes darkened. "...Why am I still here?"
The Joker made a soft sound. "Because I'm not letting you go." He blinked when Dolly let out a bark of laughter.
"I'm not talking about that," she said. "I'm talking about here...in this city...in this world. Why am I not dead yet?"
The Joker reclined back, his face blank. "...Because you're a strange girl," he said, again sounding like he was licking his scars. "...And what doesnt kill you...makes you stranger." He bend forward so his arms rested on his knees. "...People...so-called normal people..." He made quotes with his fingers. "...They're the easiest to kill...because they're predicable. Their reactions to a situation...and how they handle it...it's easy to see the pattern after awhile, and hence, it's easy to cut them off that pattern.
"Now, look at people...like say, me." He licked his lips. "You never know what's going on in my mind, let alone how to comprehend what you happen to find out, right? Right. Now...put me in an everyday situation, and while the rest of the little sheep are following the herd...the black sheep move another way. And the shepherd doesnt know what to do with the black sheep, so he leaves it alone to be on his way. He doesnt take the time, you see..."
"...To figure out the ways of the black sheep, where he's going and why he's going that way," Dolly finished absently. The Joker blinked at her. "...I told you, I want to be a psychologist. I make it my forte to know about all kinds of mental being...be it 'normal' or 'crazy'..." The Joker made a soft sound, his mouth twitching. "...My apologies, 'insane'. There's a big difference."
The Joker arched a brow. "...Enlighten me." Dolly looked him in the eye.
"Crazy people dont know they're crazy," she said. "Insane people know they're insane, and they revel in the fact." She nodded pointedly. "Like you. Insane people are ahead of the curb. I did a paper for my class on how insanity could actually be a psychological evolution, rather than a regression." She made another 'pfft' sound. "I got a 'B' on it because it wasnt 'well-enough researched', if you can believe that..."
"I can," the Joker said, leaning back. "...And here's what I also believe...I believe that you're insane, too."
Dolly opened the bottle and took another drink. "From the way things have been, and from the way that I havent killed myself yet...I think so too."
Five-o-clock came again, and Dolly was tied to the chair, same as last time, and the blindfold tied over her eyes. She heard the telltale switchblade snap into place.
"Day two, Gotham viewers," the Joker said, his voice taking that insane higher pitch. "And still, no sign of the Batman to save the little damsel in distress." She felt his hand reach and grab her head, then bend it to the side to expose her neck--the side she hadnt nicked earlier before. "Now, as promised, another cut on her pretty pale flesh...another scar for the Batman to have on his conscience..." He pressed the blade into a non-lethal part of her neck and she heard him lick his scars.
"Now...for the climax of the show...!" Dolly cried out and tried to keep still and not cause extra damage as he slices the razor-sharp blade across her neck and down at an angle between her clavicles to come to a rest at the top of her sternum before lifting. She groaned and let the tears run into the cloth of the blindfold as the Joker carded his fingers through her hair with mock comfort.
"She sheds blood with every passing day, Batman," the Joker cackled, smearing her blood over her neck and chest. "Better hurry...She dies at sunset tomorrow evening" After she heard the camera be shut off, the Joker untied her and took off the blindfold and pressed the cloth to her neck.
Dolly felt a little sick as the Joker led her back into the room with the medical supplies and let her lie back on the gurney.
"You wont be needing stitches this time around," he said. "But I wouldnt suggest straining yourself." He rolled up his sleeves and put a liquid onto a cloth and rubbed it into her cut. Dolly bit her lip and kept her neck turned, clenching her fingers into the gurney beneath her. The Joker finished cleaning and disinfecting and bandaged it up, tossing the bloody cloth behind him, then pulled her up and led her back to her room.
"I'll send in something for you to eat," he said. "You havent eaten in two days. Cant have you starving before the big finale, hm?"
Dolly made a soft sound. "My personal best is six days without passing out," she replied. The Joker shrugged.
"Still," he said. He turned to leave and shut the door behind him. Though, Dolly could still hear him yelling at the henchmen. "Scrounge up something to eat! And God help you if there's dairy in it! I wont have her dying before I get to her first!"
Despite herself, be it from the loss of blood, the mind-snapping situation, or that she may in fact be insane, Dolly turned and snickered into her pillow.
October 30, 2008
My final days may not be so bad. My abductor listened to me and believed when the councilors ignored me or thought I was lying. He may not be sympathetic...but right now, his empathy means more. Death may not be so bad. I just might welcome it.
In the next chapter, the morning before she's set to die, Dolly completely loses it--and it isnt the Joker's doing.