My Joker Story

It was a slow day in Gotham, everything was quite. A lady walked her prissied up poodle, while a man sat on a bench smoking a cigar. Girl Scouts were waiting at the doors of Supermarkets, to see who would bye their over priced goodies. Some stray dogs wandered about. Buissness men and women were all about, talking on their cell phones, wearing their plain gray and black suits.



I walked to the bank, holding the check my mom gave me to deposit.
The bank was far from my house, we didn't own a vehicle. I was the one to do everything.

I open the Bank doors, only to see everybody on the floor, with there hands above there heads. It was to late, I couldn't leave.

Men with Clown masks, stared at me. They had guns. I heard  a loud gun shot, across the desks. A Cubicle glass window shattered from the blow of the bullet. I shuddered. It all happened so fast. One of the Clown Men fell to the ground, with red liquid oozing from his the back of his head, there was a different man, suddenly appearing were the glass wall had stood.

A middle age Man, Stood, with to many expressions on his face.
Yellow eyes, green hair, white face, the black around his eyes, the smile.


He carried a slender hand gun. I fell to my kneys. I had a feeling my days were limited. This was the day, I would be shot, by the Joker.


I leened over and fell on my side, my Knees huddled up against me. My cheap black bikini strap tank top, was covered with fear. I closed my eyes. I don't want to see his face again.

"Well, I didn't even have to say anything, for you to do what I wanted." The Joker said, with a harsh, but funny tone of voice. "Your a good little girl."

His voice almost sounded like he was trying to calm me, but it still had that "funny" tone to it.

He walked closer. The tiny shards of glass and blood, made small cracking sounds.
I huddled closer to my knees, hiding my face in the tight ball I was trying to form.
Tears seeped through my tightly closed eyes.

I felt him getting closer, I peered out of my eyes, just enough so I could see were he was at. There was a Dark purple shoe, right in front of my face.

All my energy drained out of me. My tight ball, now became  limp. I felt as tho I was going to pass out. My eyes were wide open. I felt his stare.

"Now, come on, get up." His calming, "joking" voice said.  I started to inch my way up. I was sitting now, huddled against my knees for compfort. I looked at him.

So many expressoins could be seen. I didn't know what to do. His eyes locked mine, to an unbreakable silence. No sound. My heart raced.

I saw his lips, they were cut up, he looked like he was smiling. The red makeup, drawn on his lips and cheaks, couldn't hide the cuts.

His eyes turned a yellow gray. His real smile frowned, but the cuts kept smiling.

"The scars." He said as he whipped out a slender pocket knife. "These scars are some fun times from the past!" He grabbed my blonde hair, yanking me up.

He put the Knife to the side of my mouth. "Your going to have some fun times, of your own." He slid the knife into my cheek. I cried, I tasted the salty, metaly taste of my blood. "My dad, he was a drinker, and a feind, and one night he went off crazier than ever, mommy got the kitchen knife to defend herself...." He didn't finish his sentance. There was a deathly silence in the air.

I heard the sirons. They were coming, fast.


He ripped the knife from my mouth, making blood drip on his suit.

He panicked, or, at least I thought he did. I heard the "Pshhh" sound, when you spray something. The air got dim. I got light headed. I remember clutching My "fun time smile"

It went black.




Could this be the day my life Really ends?