Sequel: Smile for Me ›
Status: Finished :)
Give Me a Smile
Stockholm
And woke up to The Joker kicking the door open. “Quinnie! I’m home! I, ha!, MISSED you!” He sat on the edge of the sink, kicking his legs back and forth. There was grey dust on his shoes and pant legs. “I did it, you know. I just DID it!” he laughed.
He paused, but I didn’t say anything. The Joker sighed, using a knife to clean under his fingernails. “I blew up a building for ya. Well, kinda.” He chuckled and leaned against the mirror. “I mean, I was gonna, ha!, do it anyway, but I thought of you.”
I just looked at him, feeling my lower lip quiver. He peered down and groaned. “Now, now, Quinn, I told you I wanted SMILES. Why do you look so sad all the time?” When I didn’t speak he sighed and sat in front of me. I glared at him. Maybe I was sad because I’d been kidnapped.
“It’s the scars, isn’t it? I bet they mocked what makes you beautiful.” He said. I stared. How did he hit part of what hurt me? I had always been taught that Joker was a madman, but the man sitting before me appeared sympathetic and sane. “Uh...yeah. You....You’re right.” I stammered.
He leaned a little closer, and I realized Joker’s eyes were green. “But what else, Quinn? Who stole your smile?” “Herman Stol.” For once it seemed I’d confused The Joker. He tilted his head. “Herman stole what?”
“No, his name was Herman Stol. He was one of my mom’s boyfriends.” I mumbled, feeling a little dazed for some reason. “What did he do, eh?” I looked down. “He, uh, he raped me. And my, my mom didn’t care. She let....her boyfriends beat me up an’ then....I mean, he raped me.” I slurred.
I was dizzy, and my sight was blurring. “Wha’ did ya do t’ me?” I asked as the room started to go dark. The last thing I felt was his hands on my arms.
He paused, but I didn’t say anything. The Joker sighed, using a knife to clean under his fingernails. “I blew up a building for ya. Well, kinda.” He chuckled and leaned against the mirror. “I mean, I was gonna, ha!, do it anyway, but I thought of you.”
I just looked at him, feeling my lower lip quiver. He peered down and groaned. “Now, now, Quinn, I told you I wanted SMILES. Why do you look so sad all the time?” When I didn’t speak he sighed and sat in front of me. I glared at him. Maybe I was sad because I’d been kidnapped.
“It’s the scars, isn’t it? I bet they mocked what makes you beautiful.” He said. I stared. How did he hit part of what hurt me? I had always been taught that Joker was a madman, but the man sitting before me appeared sympathetic and sane. “Uh...yeah. You....You’re right.” I stammered.
He leaned a little closer, and I realized Joker’s eyes were green. “But what else, Quinn? Who stole your smile?” “Herman Stol.” For once it seemed I’d confused The Joker. He tilted his head. “Herman stole what?”
“No, his name was Herman Stol. He was one of my mom’s boyfriends.” I mumbled, feeling a little dazed for some reason. “What did he do, eh?” I looked down. “He, uh, he raped me. And my, my mom didn’t care. She let....her boyfriends beat me up an’ then....I mean, he raped me.” I slurred.
I was dizzy, and my sight was blurring. “Wha’ did ya do t’ me?” I asked as the room started to go dark. The last thing I felt was his hands on my arms.
♠ ♠ ♠
Stockholm syndrome, or capture-bonding, is a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and have positive feelings towards their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. These feelings are generally considered irrational in light of the danger or risk endured by the victims, who essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors for an act of kindness. The FBI’s Hostage Barricade Database System shows that roughly 27% of victims show evidence of Stockholm Syndrome.