In the Mind of Madness

That night Kenna sat on her couch and breathed heavily into her knees. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Strange emotions had been tearing her up inside. Memories she hadn’t thought of for years were popping up, thanks to The Joker and his tormenting.

He made her so mad, but she was appalled at what she had done. Kenna had let him win. Now she could see that it was just a game to him, something to occupy his time and feed his sick need for causing others pain. Kenna sniffled and wiped her eyes. She hated how she cried when she was mad.

Kenna gasped as something flashed by her window. She jumped up and ran to it, peering out. It wasn’t the first time she’d sworn there was something out there, watching her. Only this time she hadn’t seen it out of the corner of her eye, she’d seen this straight on. She opened the window, poking her head out.

“Who’s out here?” she called, her voice scratchy from crying.

Of course there was no reply, and Kenna slammed her window shut and closed the blinds. She ran a hand through her hair, spitting curses at the floor. So The Joker would win, just like that. Not only had he gotten her to quit, she was losing it. Hearing things, dreaming strange things. His insanity had rubbed off on her.

“Damn him!” she shouted to no one, then choked to hold in a sob.

Kenna wished more than anything she’d never met The Joker. Then a small voice scoffed at her and contradicted that. She groaned, furious at herself. Kenna couldn’t make herself believe that she really regretted knowing him. He was too fascinating. Cold and calculating, but with a dark sense of humor that she couldn’t help think was a little entertaining. Kenna had gotten herself in deeper than she ever planned or hoped for.

Now she saw the root of the problem. She couldn’t be a psychologist. Her own mind was too fragile. One crazy guy who wore clown makeup could come along and push her to the edge with a few taunting remarks. Kenna didn’t trust anyone, she felt small and afraid. She saw all her insecurities splayed out in front of her, courtesy of The Joker.

Kenna sank to her knees and put her head on the floor, concentrating, holding her torso tightly with her arms. She couldn’t let him win like this, she wouldn’t be incapacitated so easily. Things weren’t so bad, she kept telling herself. This wasn’t anything she couldn’t live through. There had been worse events in her life.

To accentuate her point, Kenna dragged out a memory that she hadn’t allowed herself to for almost ten years. Her father laying in a hospital bed, covered with bloody bandages and his breathing shallow. Watching him take his last breath, the sound of the monitor flat-lining.

“Not as bad.” she growled.

Kenna thought back to medical school. There was no Mind Games 101. She chuckled and shook her head. Nothing could have prepared her for The Joker. With just a few words he made her feel so insecure and insignificant. But he would NOT win.

Scrambling up off the floor, Kenna ran into her bathroom and glared at her reflection. She was pale and sweating, and she wiped her forehead with a towel before opening her mouth.

“You are strong.” she said in surprisingly steady voice. “You will beat him.”

Then Kenna forced a smile at herself, took a few deep breaths, and went into the kitchen to take some aspirin. She knew what she was going to do. Just what The Joker would probably be expecting from her.