Sequel: Smile for Me ›
Status: Finished :)
Give Me a Smile
No Escape
He was back by the time I woke up. I opened my eyes to see him sitting on the end of my bed, casually flipping a knife from palm to palm. He couldn’t have known I was awake, so I watched him for a bit.
He was off in his own head. Every few seconds he’d lick his lips, flick the hair out of his eyes. I wondered what it was like, being so in and out of control. He claimed to be insane, that he just ‘did stuff’, but he came up with all these clever schemes.
Maybe I was the only person who truly saw what he was like, the man behind the madness, so to speak. It made me feel special, and I smiled, getting his attention. He caught the knife by the blade and turned to me, ignoring the line of blood now snaking down his palm.
“Quinn. You’re up.” I yawned and sat up. “Yeah. How’d it go?”He shrugged, examining his palm. I got the impression he didn’t want to talk about it. I figured the crime had failed. “Uh...so. You’re back early then.” He nodded. “I guess....”
Joker turned with angry eyes, slashing the knife across my face. I yelped and put my hand to my cheek, feeling blood on my fingers. “Quiet. You’re annoying me.” He said, wiping off the blade. I nodded, then got off the couch and hurried to the bathroom.
There was a thin line across my face, probably too shallow to scar. It stung though. I leaned my head against the mirror and started crying. Joker came up behind me, giggling softly. “Quinn. Quinn. It’s okay. Consider that a mark of affection.”
His words did make me feel better. Every cut, every bruise a mark of affection, a sign that I was special to him. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Now, smile for me.” I did. He pinched my cheek and grinned. “Beautiful. Now c’mon, I wanna see if I’m on the news.”
He was off in his own head. Every few seconds he’d lick his lips, flick the hair out of his eyes. I wondered what it was like, being so in and out of control. He claimed to be insane, that he just ‘did stuff’, but he came up with all these clever schemes.
Maybe I was the only person who truly saw what he was like, the man behind the madness, so to speak. It made me feel special, and I smiled, getting his attention. He caught the knife by the blade and turned to me, ignoring the line of blood now snaking down his palm.
“Quinn. You’re up.” I yawned and sat up. “Yeah. How’d it go?”He shrugged, examining his palm. I got the impression he didn’t want to talk about it. I figured the crime had failed. “Uh...so. You’re back early then.” He nodded. “I guess....”
Joker turned with angry eyes, slashing the knife across my face. I yelped and put my hand to my cheek, feeling blood on my fingers. “Quiet. You’re annoying me.” He said, wiping off the blade. I nodded, then got off the couch and hurried to the bathroom.
There was a thin line across my face, probably too shallow to scar. It stung though. I leaned my head against the mirror and started crying. Joker came up behind me, giggling softly. “Quinn. Quinn. It’s okay. Consider that a mark of affection.”
His words did make me feel better. Every cut, every bruise a mark of affection, a sign that I was special to him. He put his hands on my shoulders. “Now, smile for me.” I did. He pinched my cheek and grinned. “Beautiful. Now c’mon, I wanna see if I’m on the news.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Dr. Kerry Landry, a child psychiatrist in Durham, North Carolina, said that repeated abuse causes complex trauma."They can really feel like they have no control and there is no escape," Landry said.