“Each evening, as the sun kissed the horizon and sunk down the abyss, Jack Napier, would feel a chill down his spine. ‘Morning comes soon, my prince, don’t worry, come here, come to your mamma,’ my maama would say, looking at me, her terrified son, Jack Napier.”
“‘Maama, I can see a shadow, he is coming…he is coming maama,’ a young and petrified Jack would say, his voice always breaking and his throat closing up, as if someone were steeping on it, you know,” said the Joker and coughed once, as if he were really being chocked. “Jack used to widen his big eyes and stare at the timidly growing shadow on the street,” said the Joker, his legs and hands tied and his gaze fixed on Dr. D.
He sat quietly for a few seconds, as if his thoughts were being carried to his ears by the wind. A minute hence, he licked his lips once and shook his head, as he said, “Fear would morph into thick beads of sweat and trickle down his unblemished little face, as a burly man, with a wide smile on his face, would stop infront of the window,” continued the Joker and cackled. “What you lookin at, boy?” the drunk beast of a man would say and punch Jack right in the face. ‘Stick your nose out of that window again and I’m gonna cut it right off, you hear me?”’
“‘Yes, father, yes. I do. I do,’ Jack would cry and run to his mother, his rock, his support, his happiness.”
“Hey doc, tick tock, you just have five more minutes on the clock,” yelled Lyle Bolton through a hole in the door and said, “Don’t want the Sup. to get all riled up.”
“You heard the man, five more minutes,” repeated Dr. D. in his rough enough accent, as he pressed his silky hair back and slid all his notes inside his leather briefcase.
“‘Hey woman! I’m hungry! Bring me some of that wretched food!” my father would scream, as he’d drag a pretty lady inside the house with him. ‘And some of my princess too,’ he’d add, looking at that dainty woman he had picked up at the bar.”
“Like a trained labrat, Jack’s mother, weak and pious and filled with remorse, would wear a face of angst and quietly scurry into the kitchen, as my father would pull out bottles of whiskey and rum from his cover and drink it like a buffalo. ‘Honey, pour me some too,’ his bimbo would squeak and open her mouth wide.”
Joker abruptly broke his narration, licked his tongue twice and said, “Doc. can you please push my hair back? They’re poking my eyes.”
“I’m not allowed to touch you, Joker.”
“Oh! That’s a pity, well, I wish my dad were like you…a “Gentleman””.
“Oh well, Bolton would do me later. He isn’t afraid of me, no. no. He is my kid. He is my soldier,” said Joker in a serious tone and laughed. “Anyway, as I was saying, Jack, his heart beating aloud, with fear and anger playing games of hide and seek, would stare at his father and his new girlfriend. He’d think, “Why does this man like this lady more than he likes his mamma? Why is she laughing, while his poor mother is crying? Why does father kiss that woman, while he beats up Jack’s mother? No, no. I did not like my father, no. I did not like what he did to my mother. No. Not one bit!”
The other two photos: http://hdw.eweb4.com/search/batman+joker/
Dr. D. is a character I am trying to build. He is a character out of one of my other story series, “The Pariah”. He is a psychiatrist of singular interest and chances are that he might shock you to your very bones. I just wanted to do a lille mix and match, so I’m merging the two words of fiction. Anyway, I won’t tell you much about Dr. D. here, read on to know what he means to Joker and Jack 🙂
To know a little bit about the Doctor, read https://rameshadarsh.com/fiction/the-pariah-2/the-pariah-1-6/