the heavy metal door slammed shut, and the click of the deadbolt echoed through the narrow hallway.

the room was cluttered with things — clothes, shards of a broken cup, and papers flew against the wall every time another fit of hysteria washed over you. In the center of the living room, a thick black bag towered on the floor, from which a thick, dark puddle was slowly oozing onto the dirty linoleum.

your first crime.

the footsteps in the hallway were slow and shuffling. out of the darkness emerged a silhouette in a filthy purple coat. he stopped, indifferently stepping over the torn fabric of your blouse and silently raised an eyebrow as he scanned the wreckage you had caused.

"well, well," Joker drawled. his voice was raspy and broken and his lips stretched into an unnatural smile, twitched slightly. "look at this little chaos. you're too nervous, sunshine. after all, I taught you to keep your composure."

he stepped closer, his boots slipping on the blood, but he didn't even look down. to him, this bag with the body was just trash, just like the bodies of your real parents, whom he had gotten out of the way simply because they crossed his path.

you knew this perfectly well from the first day. you knew who’s doing it was, but you stayed with him because he became your new, terrifying reality. he raised you, teaching you to look at the world through his eyes.

Joker crouched down right in front of you. his white-makeup-covered fingers, marred with scars, gently touched your shoulder, squeezing the fabric slightly. a strange, sick approval could be read in his eyes.

"you know it was necessary," he whispered softly. "your first real manifestation of cruelty. I look at you and I feel pride bursting in my chest."

you looked up at him, feeling the trembling gradually give way to a chilling calm. "I was... furious," your voice broke, but there was no regret in it.

"oh, fury is wonderful, it's fuel!" he threw his hands up theatrically, his laughter breaking into a short, sharp falsetto. "anger makes you honest. In those moments, people show who they really are. and you... you're just like me. I raised you right. do you see now that this world is just a joke?"

Joker tilted his head slightly to the side, his messy green hair falling over his face, hiding the insane glint in his eyes. "and now tell me, darling, how do you feel knowing that I am the one who turned your life into this?" his voice became extremely quiet and insinuating.

"you made me who I am," you answered, swallowing the lump in your throat, and looked at the black bag where your first step into the darkness rested.

Joker smiled broadly with satisfaction, baring his scars. he patted you on the shoulder and sighed heavily, like a father praising a child for good grades.

"bingo!" he snapped upright, dusting off his hands. "now dry your tears and wipe the floor. we need to get rid of this."