No Place in My Heart for a Criminal Like You

As soon as I entered the manor I started towards the stairs so that I could go to bed, but unfortunately The Joker managed to get there before I could. I tried squeezing past him, however he just continued to block my way relentlessly. After a while of this, I began to get irritated and it provoked me to try and shove him out of the way, though he was just too strong for me. He began giggling as if I was tickling his ribs instead of shoving them. Normally, at a time like this I would joined in with his laughter merely laughing the whole situation right off. But this time, I was just too tired, hurt and annoyed by the previous argument to join in with amused stature.

“Stop it and move out of my way,” I ordered harshly. He continued to snicker helplessly. “What are you doing?” I asked as he continued to block my way. The laughing ceased gently to a more serious tone.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Joker asked as he placed a finger to my forehead managing to stop any more attempts of getting past him. It was amazing how much power he possessed just with his index finger and although I was amazed I couldn’t help but feel incredibly irritated with him. His continuous laughter combined with his successful attempts to block my way was too much to handle.

“Where do you think I’m going? I’m going to bed,” I replied a little too cheekily. Although The Joker was trying to maintain his laughable side, I could clearly see his malicious, cruel, intimidating side emerging. All this lip I was giving was too much for him and I knew that if I continued I was going to pay for it, but for some reason my mind just couldn’t seem to grasp that and therefore I continued.

“No. No, you’re not,” he stated as he pushed me back slightly and then moved closer to my body so that it looked as if he was towering above me. I had to crane my neck upwards so that I could see his cold, brown eyes staring down at me. “There’s going to be some changes and rules around here, Harley. Number 1; no more cheek. Number 2; you do everything I tell you to do. Number 3; don’t tell me what to do. Number 4; defiance will not be tolerated. Number 5; you-”

“I don’t have to do anything you tell me to do. I’m not you’re slave and I have my own rights,” I interrupted, not being able to take any more of his ridiculous rules. They were just plain patronising. I couldn’t take being treated like a little child no longer and I had to say something to him. As he was stating every rule, he circled me, counting with his fingers for every rule.

He looked a little taken back by my interruption. When he had made his way around so that he was standing in front me, he stared into my eyes exaggerating his shock and scoffed mockingly at my insolence. His cold, hard eyes were enough to intimidate me let alone the heavy blanket of silence in the tension filled atmosphere. While I was debating what he might possibly do to me, I felt his leather clad hand collide with the side of my face. I fell to the ground because of the suddenness and powerful force. The slap left a burning sensation which felt as if it was taking over my whole face. As I fell, I heard the snickers and chuckles of The Joker’s henchmen laughing at my misfortune. To be honest I had forgotten that they were there at all and I suddenly felt extremely embarrassed yet again. The Joker had hit me before, but never in front of any of his men and it only exacerbated the negativity of the situation. My head shot towards all of the men angrily as I glared at them all. It was hard to look frightening when there was a tear rolling down your face.

“Rule number 1, Harley. No more cheek,” he repeated more firmly and irritated as he leaned down to grabbed my face and made me look at him. A sick smile spread across his face once he noticed the tears. “Stand up,” he ordered as he did. I refused to as more tears threatened to fall. “Stand up, Harley!” I continued to ignore him and it provoked him to use force. Viciously, he gripped my arm and jerked me up from off the floor almost pulling my arm out of my socket. I screamed in pain as he heaved towards him. “Rule number 2,” he started through clenched teeth and began twisting my arm with his bruising grip. “You do everything I tell you.”

He continued to twist my arm to the point where I literally thought it was going to break. Helplessly I cried in pain, “Stop it! You’re hurting! Let go of me, please!”

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked, knowing perfectly well what I had just said. I began trying to wrench my arm away from him, which just resulted in more pain.

“Let go!” Instantly, he obeyed my commands and I went tumbling backwards and onto my back with a thud. I moaned in agony on the floor as him and his men began laughing as if it was some cruel sick joke.

“Rule number 3. Don‘t tell me what to do.”

It was perfectly evident that The Joker was loving and cherishing every moment of this. He loved to see people in pain and he’d been wanting to hurt me for a long time now, but had resisted all of the urges. Now, he had finally had the chance and a reason to hurt me and he was taking any chance he got to, to do so.

Do you feel like a man, when you push her around? Do you feel better now, as she falls to the ground?

Once the laughter had died down, the atmosphere in the room turned serious again. The Joker walked over hovering above my body and stared down at me. “Go to bed,” he growled huskily. Immediately I stood up and began running up the stairs completely humiliated and embarrassed, hearing more laughs coming from all of the men.

I slammed the door angrily once I had entered the bedroom and stormed over to the ensuite bathroom. There I made my way over to the mirror to see what damage had been done. Slowly I brought my hand to my face to touch the bruise that had already began to form under my eye from the hit. I flinched and brought my hand away instantly when I felt how painful it was. My forearm had also began to turn into a nice shade of purple, showing the outline of The Joker’s hand exactly where he had grabbed me. Tears began to fall down my face more heavily now.

It all fell on me like a ton of bricks. Looking at my reflection made me see what I had really become. A monster. Sick and twisted. I was lulled into a false sense of security by The Joker and he managed to completely transform me into something that I’d never thought I’d be. I was scared of myself and I didn’t even know who I was anymore. This wasn’t me. It was what The Joker wanted me to be. I hated myself for it. Batman was right.

I began unfastening the corset to see what damage was done elsewhere. Scars, bruises, cuts, grazes and gashes covered my once untouched body. Some were more recent than others, but all of them looked equally ugly.

I started running water into the bath beside me, hoping that a bath might wash away some of the troubles. While I continued to look over all of the battle wounds, I heard footsteps approaching closer to the bathroom. I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. But then again there was a mirror in front of me, so I could easily see whoever entered. As I had guessed, The Joker entered and then closed the door behind him.

“Hey, toots,” he said cheerfully, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I did nothing in return; not even a simple smile. I only continued to glare at him, distantly. I was emotionally drained from the days events and I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him directly. “Why so serious?” He asked as he walked over to me and then snaked an arm around my bare waist. No longer caring what the punishment was, I shoved his arm away. The only thing worse than what he had done to me earlier would be death, but even right now that didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Aggressively, he grabbed my bruised arm and forced my tear filled eyes to look at him. “What’s wrong with you, hmm?”

“I want to go home,” I replied choking on my tears pathetically.

The Joker merely laughed in return before asking, “What are you talking about? You are home.”

“No. I need to be…away…from this place a-and…you. I can’t stand it anymore. Please. I just want to go home.”

He breathed heavily through his nose and then licked his lips. “You know what?” He started almost soothingly. “Why don’t you take your bath, think things over and then we’ll see what you feel like in the morning, hmm?” He asked as gently pulled off my tutu.

“No, J! I’ve already thought about this! I don’t want to be here anymore. Look at me! This is fatal,” I stated as I pointed to all the wounds over my naked body. “I can’t keep living like this. I’m a lot more weaker than you and I can’t cope with these kinds of injuries no longer.”

“Well, I don’t think you have a choice in the matter, my little harlequin. Not only do you not have another home to go to, but don’t you think the cops are going to be looking for you too? Think about it, Harley.” He left the bathroom soon after, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

There was nothing I could do and as much as I loved him, I had to get away from him somehow. He wasn’t good for me at all and things would only get worse if I stayed with him.