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Chapter 9

There was a second between sleep and the light of the day that showed an empty side of my bed. After that moment, I remembered yesterday's unfortunate events. Crane was gone at the moment, and Jo was gone forever. God, I wasn't just tired but I was skittish. I couldn't shake that sleep from my body, no matter how much rest I gave myself.

I didn't stay in bed all day, despite how difficult it was to force myself out. No, I still had another day to myself before heading back to work. I showered, cranking the heat so high that I hoped it would melt away my sadness. No, sadness wasn't the word to use. I wanted fire to rain down on my body and rip away my memories, pain, and regret. I could die and start over. That was the key.

The dark circles beneath my eyes were difficult to conquer, but it could be done by the power of makeup. After fussing over my face, I pulled on an olive colored V-neck and a pair of black jeans. That was about as dressed up as I was going to get. The blank expression on my face turned sour in the mirror, examining a tiny hole developing at the end of the long sleeve. "I really don't give a shit." I growled, trying to shake some volume into the ashy black tresses.

Was it too cold outside? I opened the window and felt a gust of air, but the sun seemed to cast some sort of relief, melting a bit of the snow on the ground. My cell phone played a jingle in the short distance. I wanted to let it ring, remembering that threatening message a received not long ago. Somehow, I still answered it anyway.

"This is Mira." My voice came out as a croak.

"Mira? This is Rosemary Flannagan with GCPD. Any chance you could come by and continue with some questions?"

I half expected it to be a bill collector or something stupid, so I didn't really listen. When I realized who it was, I still kind of shrugged it off. "What?" I responded reflexively. "I mean, yeah. Sure."

She said something nice; something about a thank you and a sorry. Nothing registered with me today. I didn't even care that Crane was gone. Part of me wished he could give me some of those drugs to give me a sense of clarity; to feel something clean like blue or warm and savory like red. Then again, it wasn't a good thought. I needed my pain to feel real. An illusion could be more detrimental to my health than the truth.

"If today were a color… today would be…" I mused out loud. Then I remembered the horrifying look in the Scarecrow's eyes. That white, the impure color that looked like filthy snow; run over and scraped away. Yes, there it was. That was the color I never wanted.

I drove to the department without a thought in my head. One foot in front of the other was progress as far as I was concerned. I locked up the car, threw my hands in my pockets, and headed for the doors. One foot in front of the other…

So much coffee….

The place reeked of caffeine, and had an all around dark aura to it. Some small talk here and there, but it wasn't bustling with action or people running around in a panic like they show on TV.

"Ma'am?"

I bit the inside of my cheek lightly, just to have something to chew on. Nail biting was something I did when I was twelve, and I quickly discovered how disgusting a habit that was.

"Ma'am?"

Two older men were laughing to themselves over a couple boxes of Chinese. Another lady had her face buried into a computer, talking to herself quietly between sips from a small plastic cup. She couldn't afford to be distracted, so she shot an unpleasant look to the other two. They quieted down, but not without a few choice words.

"Ma'am is there somethi-"

"WHAT?"

I managed to silence the whole room, catching the attention of every cop present and the violent glare of the receptionist. A warm hand rested on my shoulder before I heard a flood of apologies. I was escorted away, taken to a messy desk with a metal chair and handed a cup full of unknown contents.

"Forgive my mess, Mira." She smiled, attempting to straighten her papers. I glanced around and found no photographs of family or anything to show she had a life outside of work. Maybe she didn't. Flannagan was quite lovely though, she had to have something to occupy her in her daily life besides being a cop. She would be crazy otherwise.

"Let's go." I told her with a wave of my hand. She nodded and pulled out an ink pen.

"How was Jo the last time you saw her?"

I reached back into my mind. The last time I saw her, she was checking on me because of Dr. Crane. I answered differently, knowing it wouldn't matter either way. "We had a lunch date together about a week ago, maybe. She was her usual self, I would say."

"Okay and how would you describe your relationship?" Flannagan continued. I just rolled with it.

"We were pretty close, but we didn't talk all the time. Jo and I went to the same nursing school, so we started out as study buddies and just sort of became good friends. I've known her since I was around eighteen."

"Only since you were eighteen? How old are you now?"

"I'm twenty-four. I've been in Gotham since I was sixteen."

Steer it away from you, Mira. Get back to Jo; don't tell her more than she needs to know.

"Jo wouldn't have killed herself. I know people say that all the time, but there is no way she could have done that."

Flannagan scribbled with her pen before taking a deep breath. "Do you know a lot about her family life; maybe any other friends she might have had?"

I thought carefully and realized that I didn't know a lot about her family, and the only friends that came to mind were other girls from school. It made me feel shitty.

"Her parents divorced, but I'm pretty sure her mom re-married. As far as I know, she was an only child. She was originally from Rhode Island before she came here for school."

She kept nodding as she wrote. "Thank you, Mira. Now, I just have one more question to ask you." Flannagan pulled out a paper, covered in grey like it had been photocopied. Upon further inspection, I saw the scribbles of the dark words.

"There were piles of bodies upon one another. Red bodies were all I could see, and no matter how hard I ran, I couldn't escape from the chase. They're coming for me." I read out loud through clenched teeth. Keep it together, keep it together!

My lips trembled. "I don't know what that means, I'm sorry." I handed back the paper, unable to keep the tears from falling. "What is this? Did she write this?"

"We found it next to her body. I had hoped that maybe you would understand what it meant." Flannagan explained.

"I wish you never showed me that." I scolded, wiping my tears on my sleeve. The sound of the chair grating against the floor startled Flannagan before she realized I was leaving.

"Mira, wait!"

"I can't do this." I told her as I walked away. She didn't catch up.

I ran around the building and threw up in the snow. My stomach forced itself inside out relentlessly until there was nothing inside me. Strangely, I found myself feeling a lot better despite the dizziness in my head. Slowly, I wiped my face and straightened myself up before searching for my car.

Once I finished fastening my seatbelt, I fumbled in my wallet for my bank card. I picked up my phone and dialed Jo's number before laughing and throwing it at the window. How long would it take me to remember? How often would I stupidly dial her number before realizing that she was gone?

"I need more friends." I breathed, understanding that I was going to binge shop on my own.

Four hours after the meeting with Rosemary Flannagan at the GCPD, I was back at the apartment. Lugging in four hundred dollars worth of clothes and two hundred dollars worth of miscellaneous shit still didn't seem to fill that hole in my heart. I didn't expect it to, but I gave it a shot.

I put the new clothes in the closet and set the shoes beneath them. Everything that didn't belong to me laid out on the bed, ready to be folded and stuffed away somewhere else. I bought Crane some decent shirts that were on sale at the store. Some were grey and others were black, but only because I didn't think I could see the Doctor willingly sporting any other color.

There was a box hidden away in my closet, so I pulled it out and folded the clothes neatly inside. I don't know why I did that for him. Crane could be long gone for all I knew. Maybe he would never come back. Fighting the thought, I pushed the box into the closet and carefully closed the doors.

I saw something taped to my television. A note? Why I didn't notice it before was strange to me. I anxiously grabbed it, taking a minute to analyze the words written on the thin sheet of paper.

"Please come to work tonight. If you're not here by 9 PM, you will be escorted. Doctor's orders."

"Fuck off." I said to the note and threw it on the floor. "I'm taking back your clothes, Crane. I knew I never should have felt sorry for you."

The clock read six, meaning I had time to make a choice. Sure I could call the cops, but then I'd draw suspicion from Flannagan and her partner. I wasn't guilty of anything besides participating in Crane's drug trial. If the police ever found out about that, I'd have a tower of problems fall over me.

I fought with myself. Arkham definitely had more issues than I knew of; from the employees to those pieces of shit lights in the basement. Play the game, Mira. Seek it out, and fix the problem internally.

"I don't even know what the problem is." I told myself.

Oh no. What if my supervisor found out that Crane was at my house? Did Jessica have Crane bring the note to my apartment? There was no telling how anyone at Arkham would react if they found out. I mean, obviously they were the ones responsible for letting Crane out every so often, I just didn't know what the purpose was. Did he pay them to do it? Maybe he gave them drugs? Oh I could just imagine the plucky nurse, Jessica Sterling. She would have the needle shoved up her arm, convulsing to pastel pinks and purples all night long. The visionary made me laugh harder than it should have.

I have nothing else to do.

No, I didn't. I just left my place; I left it locked with the note still on the floor. I got back into my vehicle and I drove. There were no snow flurries in the air, just the peace and quiet of the already darkened night. "Freaks come out at night." I told myself, twisting the dial to the heater. There was a baseball bat in the backseat, and I kept pepper spray on my hip, just in case any freaks decided to come and play.

I rolled my head in a stretch and sighed, putting the car in park. A sudden chill in the air made me cringe, and I wished I had actually worn a coat instead of leaving in such a hurry. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if I was a damn idiot to come here in the first place, but I figured it was too late. I made it this far.

I swung open the familiar door and greeted the receptionist. By this time, she was still here and hadn't left for the night. A couple of doctors chatted in the hallway, but otherwise, the place was pretty empty.

"Mira? Ms. Sterling is expecting you downstairs." The receptionist chirped with wide eyes. I didn't respond.

Everything was going to be fine. There were enough people here to see if something bad was going to go down. I reached the elevator and leaned on the wall lazily as I listened to it ding here and there, waiting to be taken to the bottom floor. Everything seemed to stop the moment I hit the bottom; sounds, movement, and life. Complete silence engulfed the air, and those stupid lights weren't even on.

"Jessica." I said coldly, clutching the pepper spray, This bitch, I swear I will beat y-

There were hands everywhere, and I heard the shuffle of feet as I struggled between them. I screamed and punched the air over and over again. Two times I hit someone's flesh, but never heard a cry of pain. I realized that I was being taken over, and I gave up once my back hit the chair. My arms were strapped down, and so were my legs. God, it was still so dark in the room. How could they see?

Finally a light flickered on. Three figures stood above me. The tallest wore a three pointed pink hat and a skimpy strapless dress, covered in lilac purple and enough sparkles to suffocate a small child. I recognized the second woman, but only because of her copper colored curls. She wore a long white doctor's coat and a teal face mask. The third wore a burlap sack over his head, and his too well known tattered black dress coat.

"You know, a jester is a fool." I laughed harshly. "If you think you're some kind of Harley Quinn, then I hate to tell you how fucking horribly you have failed you stupid slut."

Jessica gave a shrill laugh and lovingly leaned her head on the scarecrow's shoulder. He stiffened a bit, like something Dr. Crane would do. "Can we just shut her up?" Allison growled, holding a needle in her hand.

"I'll get you too, bitch." I warned her. "Don't think I haven't forgotten how you punched me out the other night."

"Sure, Mira." She rolled her eyes before pulling out an alcohol swab and cleaning my arm, gripping it and seeking a vein.

"Dr. Crane, stop this now." I begged. "I know you're somewhere in there. Please, don't let them d-"

She pushed the drugs inside before I could finish. I screamed profanities, throwing my head back and forth like it would do me any good. Before I knew it, the needle was out of me. The trio of horrors stood back, watching and waiting for a reaction.

"She's such a fighter." The Jester giggled, batting her pink eyelashes at Crane. Allison just stood aside, eyes darting back and forth between me and a chart on the counter.

The Scarecrow moved away from The Jester, arms crossed and stepping dangerously close to me. I caught the sad overdramatic look on the Jester's face before I felt the burlap sack graze the tip of my nose. My vision started to become clouded as I stared into his eyes.

"You really hurt me, Mira." He told me. "Crane isn't here to protect you tonight. In fact, I can hear him right now." He pointed to the back of his head. "But I'm not listening."

His voice was the last thing I heard.