In the Mind of Madness

Usually music could make Kenna feel ten times better about anything, but as she listened to Jimmy Eats World playing from her radio, she still felt sick at what she was about to do.

“Everything, everything will be alright, alright.” she sang along, then sighed. Everything would certainly not be alright.

Kenna left her hair down, since it somehow made her feel more secure. She wore a black cardigan for under her lab coat, and set off for work. The bus ride was a blur, which soon blended in with the morning. The next thing she knew, Kenna was sitting at the lunch table with a hoagie in her hand.

“Where were you at yesterday?” asked Sheila as she sat down with a mug of what looked and smelled like instant chicken noodle soup.

After a second of confusion Kenna remembered she had eaten lunch early. “Oh. My session got started early.”

Sheila chewed slowly, looking at Kenna. “Don’t you think it would be healthy to have a few other patients or something? This guy is sort of taking over your life.”

“You shouldn’t worry about me so much. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” Kenna told her friend, smiling, though her stomach still felt queasy.

Kenna thought bitterly of The Green Mile as she walked to the windowless room, though the tiles were a pristine white. After standing outside the door for a good minute and a half, Kenna had basically convinced herself that she had to do this if she ever wanted to have peace regarding The Joker. Taking a long breath, Kenna turned the doorknob and stepped into the room.

“Hello, Joker.” she said, her voice much stronger than she felt.

The Joker grinned at her, the malicious grin that haunted her dreams. “Good afternoon, Dr. Archer.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

Kenna seated herself and folded her hands on the table, waiting for The Joker to begin. He stared at her for a moment, his eyes roving all over her body. Kenna moved her arms to cover her chest, then raised her eyebrows at him. The Joker covered his smirk with his hand until he could compose his expression.

“How do you know King?”

Kenna blinked. “That’s kind of a stupid first question.” The Joker opened is mouth and she shook her head. “Never mind. He was a friend of my father’s.”

“Was?”

“My father died twelve years ago.” Kenna shifted in her seat, not only under his piercing glare but her father’s death made her uncomfortable.

“How?”

Kenna flinched. “That’s a little bit personal, I think.”

The Joker was silent, and for a moment Kenna thought he had taken her refusal to answer as his cue to clam up. But then he asked her another question. “So he got you the job here?”

“I guess so. I’d like to think it had something to do with my abilities.”

“We both know that had nothing to do with it.” he lowered his voice lasciviously.

Kenna choked on her spit. The Joker was giving her a sly smile. “Excuse me?!”

“Don’t play dumb. Bedroom eyes don’t begin to cover how that old pervert was looking at you. Do you hate yourself when you sleep with him?”

Kenna just stared at him, then started giggling so hard she had to cover her bright red face. “Now I KNOW you’re completely mental. Dr. King is old enough to be my father, and he’s only looking after me like he promised my dad.”

“Sure. If it’s what you want I’ll pretend I buy that.” said The Joker, chuckling to himself. “Now, tell me, what made you want to come and work at a place like this?”

“Next.” ordered Kenna.

The Joker scowled, somehow the act coming across playful as well as menacing. “You realize I’m going to remember these and ask later.”

“Whatever. Next.”

“What is your first name?”

Knowing she couldn’t safely avoid another question as well as figuring that was the last harmful question he‘d asked all day, Kenna sighed and gave in. “It’s Kenna.”

The Joker snorted. “I didn’t have you pegged as a ‘Kenna’. You seem more like a…Tiffany.”

“Is that a blonde joke?”

The Joker rolled his eyes as if to say ‘would I really make a blonde joke?’. “No. Middle name?”

Kenna sighed. “Kenna Margaret Archer. Happy now?”

“Thrilled.” The Joker said in a mumble, shaking with silent laughter.

“It entertains you. Making me squirm.” Kenna hissed, her fury mounting.

Nobody knew her middle name. Nobody knew that Dr. King was her dad‘s friend. Now this maniac knew, and it made her want to scream. She knew this was going to happen, but she still wanted to pull her hair out. Say goodbye to any possible sleep that night.

The Joker shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m a man of simple pleasures. Dynamite…gasoline…and occasionally it’s fun to mess around with somebody of weaker mental status than myself.”

Kenna slammed her fist down on the table, then immediately regretted it. That was exactly what he wanted: her anger. And she was practically spoon feeding it to him. Kenna ran a hand through her hair and made herself calm down, ignoring The Joker’s smug expression.

“What else do you want to know?”