Playmate

I'm soaked to the bone, but it doesn't matter to me anymore. Nothing does. All I can hear now is my slow-to-beat heart. My heart. You ripped it out of me, and you laughed,. I was stupid. I laughed too. I loved you, but I was ignorant. If you could see me now...If you could only see me now, love, you could see how truly stupid I am, but you can't. You're not here. I'm not to be saved, because you're not here to witness, or hit me in rage because I lost my life. I lost you, but I did gain something I haven't seen or heard from for years before we ever met. My sanity.

The bullet wound seeps blood, but I don't care. I don't care about anything anymore. I want you to be here, to save me one last time, but I know I don't deserve it. You always said what doesn't kill us only makes us stranger, but I guess I'm as far from strange as I've ever been.

The rain falls harder now than it did before, but you're not here to notice. You wouldn't be. It doesn't make any sense. I stare up at the armed man, and wonder what I could've done to change the stars. To be with you again. You kicked me out into the dark December, and I left. I wandered uselessly, but I left. I was always good at following orders...

If you were here, what would you say? Would you say you loved me, and missed me? Or would you say that the bullet was meant for my heart, like I was meant for yours? But was I? If I was, why aren't you here now? Because you kicked me out. Because you didn't want me anymore. Because you had decided you didn't need a playmate.

He stared down at me with merciful eyes, and he didn't laugh. Would you have if it was your hand that pulled the trigger? He spoke quietly, but with a voice like sandpaper. I wondered if this was all a joke. Good acting, maybe? I was never good at faking. You caught me every time. He said he didn't want to take my life from me, but that it wasn't his choice to do it. The city needed me dead to get to the Joker...

There was another gun shot, and I feared the worst. Bastard! How blasphemic could he be? How vindictive! I searched for the other wound, but it was nowhere to be seen. The new blood that had been shed was not mine. Arms enveloped me, but my vision was hazy as to whom. The life in me was wearing off. I could feel it, death, pulling me, dragging me by a hook behind my rib cage, to hell, where I belonged without him.

"HARLEY!" he screamed at me, shaking me violently. If only my lazy tongue could move, and tell him I understood. I blinked twice for I yes, I hear you, but that drove him over the edge. He put the gun to his head, and swore to me that I shouldn't go alone. Without him. Hell on Earth, or Hell under it was equal if we weren't together, after all. With one last eruption of strength, I put my hand on top of his.

Somehow, underneath all of the drama, noticed a ripping sound before my eyes went blurry. Was that my skin? My organs burned, but they felt like they were still inside of me...Was hell merciful, too? Would they let me be with him one last time before my eternal damnation? Was it just a cruel joke? I smelled burning hair, and slackened my grip on being hell-bent. I squinted against the streetlights, and saw that it was my shirt, ripped in half from the whole that lay in a messy pile just under my kneecaps. The defibrillator hummed as the shock screamed in me. I cried out in silent pain, but they didn't stop. Were they aware they were fighting to keep a criminal alive? Did they know that they were reconciling a sinner?

Lucky for them, it didn’t work.