When you asked me for some more I was energized

Couldn't see your eyes

They were up inside

When you asked if I could see I was pulverized

Set in overdrive

Test and recognize

- FLUME

"OK class, that concludes our review for the midterm on Thursday. Remember to study these topics, you'll miss a lot more than you think." My professor said as her voice rang through the auditorium. I tried to remind myself that I was almost done. In a few months, I would have my degree and would be done.

I groggily put my things back into my bag and checked the time. 9:30 P.M. At least she finished on-time. I shuffled outside with the other students and was greeted with a blinding number of blue and red lights. There were countless police cars in the area. I walked towards the subway and approached a cop near the entrance.

"Is something happening?" I asked him in a slightly meek, concerned voice. He sighed and rubbed his face anxiously. "There were three murders in the subway tonight, miss." My mouth went agape and I felt a nervousness creeping up my spine. Before I could say anything he continued.

"You should be fine because there's a high police presence out of precaution, but we are asking the public to keep an eye out for a man dressed as a clown." I frowned.

"Wow, okay. Thank you for letting me know. Have a good night." I smiled briefly and then quickly headed down the subway to the trains.

A clown? Could this man have chosen a creepier costume to use? I shook my head. Banishing all the thoughts from my mind.

I'll be fine. I just need to pay attention to my surroundings.

I boarded my train that went towards my apartment and I looked around the car. There were a few other students but the train was mostly empty and quiet.

No clown sightings yet, thank god.

The train came to a screeching halt and I exited the train. No one else got off and the platform was empty.

Thoroughly creeped out, I quickly walked up the stairs and was greeted to the familiar sight of garbage and a few sketchy, but not clown-like, figures. I relaxed and began my final walk to my apartment. I kept my head down and walked forward, avoiding eye contact with every person I passed.

Then I turned the block.

And I saw him.

A clown. Walking down the block on the other side of the street.

Towards me.

My breathing became labored and I could feel my heart start to race as the cop's words ran through my head repeatedly. I began to walk quickly, occasionally taking the time to look behind me.

He's going the same direction that I am. But he's walking slow. Is that worse? Does that mean he's following me?

In the spur of the moment, I quickly went down a different block to test my theory. He didn't follow me down my alternate route. I took a deep breath and began to walk normally again.

God, Victoria, it was nothing. Why did you freak out? Even if he's murdered people doesn't mean he's after you. There was probably something bad going down. Drug-related, maybe a bad relationship. But they probabl-

My internal monologue stopped when I arrived back to my original route and it happened again.

Clown. Again.

At this point, my apartment was a block away and I decided it was best to just focus on getting there. I had already determined that he wasn't following me.

Finally, in front of my apartment, I rushed inside and then focused on getting my mail so I could head upstairs where it was safe.

Feeling better than I was finally inside, I rushed to my mailbox, unlocked it, and pulled out the mail.

Then, again, a surprise. I heard the door to the lobby open behind me and I quickly spun around.

"Fuck!" The clown figure that I assumed was following me was now inside my apartment building. I yelled as loud as I could, not knowing what else to do.

"Why are you following me? What the fuck do you want from me? I didn't do anything to you!" I screamed at him while shaking and clutching my mail to my chest.

He said nothing. There was just silence.

Then he started to laugh. He tried to say something between words, but he couldn't get them out. He laughed continuously as he walked closer to me while I backed into a corner in the mail cage. I felt tears rolling down my cheek as I looked for a way out.

Then he held out a small business card.

Still having a mental breakdown, I wiped my tears in confusion and looked at him as he continued to laugh while handing me a card. I read it and quickly gave it back. It said he had a condition that made him have uncontrollable laughter. I winced with embarrassment.

"O-oh my g-god. I'm so sorry. I didn't know." I said between heavy breaths. "I thought you were a murderous clown," I said, laughing a bit at the end. "Please excuse me," I said slipping past him and heading to the elevator. I avoided eye contact and just wanted to remove myself from the situation.

I am a fucking idiot.

In the days following my embarrassing encounter with the man dressed as a clown, I tried to distract myself by studying for my midterm. It felt like I would go to classes, work, and then come home and study in an endless, mind-numbing cycle. I closed my book one night and rubbed my head as I had developed a small migraine.

Probably just from stress , I thought.

I looked back at my notes and then at the topics I still needed to go over and I sighed.

"How am I ever going to go through this material and then master it before Thursday?" I said to myself, staring at the paper for what felt like an eternity. I rubbed my eyes and then felt tears forming.

God, why am I even bothering? Is a stupid degree worth this much stress? I never have time for anything else. I'm not happy. Living in Gotham is already dreary enough as it is. I started to lightly sob as these intrusive thoughts filled my head. Then, I swiftly picked up my textbook and threw it at the wall. As soon as the book hit the wall I heard a loud commotion.

Oops, I hope I didn't just start an argument . I said in my head. I wiped the barely formed tears from my eyes and looked towards my bed. I guess I've studied enough for today.

I crawled into bed and easily dozed off into a deep sleep.

The next day started typically for me. I woke up, went through my morning routine, and headed out the door to my first class of the day. This is where it became unusual.

As I exited my apartment, my next-door neighbor, who I barely ever saw, was also leaving. My mind remembered the commotion of yesterday when I threw my textbook. I muttered out a good morning and then figured that I should make an apology.

"Uh.. good morning." I started, and he turned to stare intently at me. He seemed surprised by my initiation.

"If you heard a loud bang against your wall last night, that was actually me. Sorry, just the frustrations of college..." He looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what to say. There was a brief pause of silence.

"I guess, at least I wasn't like the person who set off an actual gun the other night, right?" I broke the awkward silence and laughed at my own comment. He finally gave a faint grin.

"Yeah . Wasn't me. I definitely don't have a gun." He said with a wide smile. I looked at him for a brief second, taken aback.

"Wait, you don't actually have a gun, right? That wasn't you?" I said, moving towards him slightly.

Then, as I moved closer to him I had a moment of clarity.

"Wait… did you… happen to arrive late the other night dressed as a clown?" I quickly scanned his height, hair, and eyes. "It was you, right? At the mailbox?"

He looked abashed, maybe slightly flattered that I recognized him. He nodded.

"I was. And you were the one who yelled at me." I clenched my teeth as he told the truth. We both walked towards the elevator and I pressed the call button.

"Yeah, sorry about that again." I put on a serious expression as the elevator dinged and we stepped inside. "But also… did you hear about the triple murder on the subway?"

"I did." He said, "it looked terrible."

"Right? Just horrible. Um… I heard they're looking for someone dressed as a clown, so if you dress like that often you might want to be careful. Also because you might scare some people. Like me. Or rather, as you did with me." I rambled on, trying to drop a hint.

Nobody just goes around in a clown costume, right? It's too big of a coincidence. I can't shake the feeling that he's involved somehow.

We finally exited the building together and said brief goodbyes as we parted ways. I headed to classes and he went wherever he was going. God only knows.

I attended two classes and then, with my brain sufficiently fried, headed home.

As soon as I entered the lobby, I noticed two seemingly out of place men having a conversation. They looked back to me and then at each other.

"Good afternoon, miss," one of the men started, "would you happen to live here? We're detectives with the Gotham City Police Department." They pulled their badges out to prove that they were detectives. Their names were Patrick and Morris.

I nodded, "I do, why? Did something happen?"

The other defective, Morris, interrupted. "Well, I'm sure you heard about the triple murder on the subway by now. Our main suspect lives in this building but we can never catch him at the right time. If you don't mind us asking, which unit do you live in?"

I gulped. I knew exactly who they were looking for and I lived right next to him.

"Unit 1007," I said as if I had no idea of the significance of my words. The detectives looked at each other.

Patrick walked towards me, arms crossed. "Miss… I'm sorry, but I never got your name."

"Victoria. Victoria Payne." I chirped.

"Miss Victoria, would you be able to sit down and answer some of our questions? Our suspect, Arthur Fleck, is your neighbor. These were tragic homicides and any information you can give us would be helpful for getting justice for the three young men that were murdered." Patrick grinned slightly and seemed eager for my help.

I hesitated, "um… I guess I can talk for a little bit, but I do have a big exam tomorrow so I can't talk for long."

"That's perfectly fine with us."

The detectives sat down with me in my apartment, but I think they quickly realized that I wasn't a great witness. I told them about how I hardly ever saw Arthur in the first place, the frequent strange sounds that came from their apartment, and I told them about how we chatted this morning.

But I didn't tell them about him and his clown costume. I simply told them that I saw him when I was leaving this morning and yesterday I threw a textbook at their wall, so I needed to apologize.

After these few brief questions, they left my apartment and headed to Arthur's. I pressed my ear against the wall, trying to hear what they were talking about. It sounded like Arthur wasn't home, only a woman was in the apartment with the detectives.

Then suddenly, there was yelling and distress. I rushed over to the door and knocked loudly. Detective Morris opened the door and I immediately saw Detective Patrick on the landline.

An older woman sitting in the living room chair looked unconscious and both of them looked petrified.

Patrick looked at me with a face of concern and said, "we're calling an ambulance, something's wrong with his mother."