Personal Narrative Essay On The Joker

There was a loud clunk as some bright white lights flashed on and broke through the darkness under the canvas sack. I could make out a few shadows, but other than that the material was too thick to see through properly. Did I mention my mild claustrophobia? Either way, I was scared. More than scared. If it was one thing I’d leant in my profession, it was exposure to fear didn’t always create tolerance. Dr Crane had kindly proven that. I could hear Alexandra breathing harshly to my right, but the other figures in the room were mostly silent. I tried to regulate my breathing, but the canvas bag smelt of sweat and petrol making me gag.

I couldn’t help but feel that I’d brought this upon myself. Had I dragged Alex into this mess? Or had she dragged me into hers? As the daughter of a mob boss, it was safe to assume that she was in more trouble than I was, but she hadn’t met the Joker. Maybe I was flattering myself; why would the Joker still care about me? But I knew better than to assume things about psychopaths. I’d learnt that the hard way. “Alexandra Kosov? ” I heard the clink of metal toe capped boots on a lino floor as a gruff voice broke the silence. “Kosov? No. No that’s not me. ” Alex replied, though her accent seemed to give her away.

Toecaps sighed and clapped his hands together. “Vasily Kosov’s daughter? ” He rephrased his question through gritted teeth, obviously not in the mood for Alexandra’s acting. “Vasily Kosov? I’ve heard of him… But I don’t know him. ” To be fair to her, Alex was a very good actress, but we’d all seen her face in the paper. On the news. As a criminal psychiatrist, I’d even psycho-analysed some of her associates. She could change her story, but not her face. “Alexandra I’d like you to-” “I’m not Alexandra, I don’t know who-” There was a loud crack as, presumably, a gloved hand struck Alex across the face.

Her acting obviously wasn’t paying off. I assumed she’d just been trying to waste time, but tricks didn’t work on Toecaps. “You’re being very rude Miss Kosov. ” But Alex wasn’t finished yet. “I told you I’m not-“ “Do you know Jack Inzerillo? ” There was a pause. Again I recognised the name from the news, but thankfully I didn’t know him personally. “Who? ” this time Alexandra’s voice faltered a little. Ah. So she does know him. Part of me wanted to speak up and put a stop to Alex’s torment, but the other more logical part of me knew that there was nothing I could do.

And there was a third part – a part that I didn’t really want to admit – that wanted to see what would happen. The curious part. Besides, psychology wasn’t always ethical. “Ah. We were told that Miss Kosov knew him. ” Toecaps began pacing again. “Obviously our mistake. ” The sack was still pulled low over my face, but I turned my head a little towards the voices. Obviously Alex had people that could be used against her. But me? I didn’t have anyone. No-one in gotham anyway. I’d hardly known Brody, and I’d been voluntarily ignoring Elisa. My parents didn’t know I existed… I began to worry then.

Was there someone I’d missed? What could they possibly use against me? “We were told she knew him well. ” Toecaps reaffirmed, but Alex only stuck to her mantra. “I’m not Alexandra Kosov. ” She protested. “No? ” “No. ” “So you don’t recognise this man. ” There was the crackle of a muffled microphone as a recording began to play from an unknown source. At first, I could only hear panicked breathing, but then a thin, hoarse voice resonated in the almost empty room. The sound was tinny and a little distorted, but there was no mistaking the man’s fear.

He was speaking quickly and disjointedly in what I could only assume was Russian, but he’d occasionally break off into a coughing fit followed by half-deranged sobs. It was pitiful to witness. Was it live? I couldn’t tell. There was a sound like a gun being fired from the speaker, and for a moment I though the man was dead. “Don’t recognise him? ” Toecaps asked; his was voice laced with a malicious kind of victory. “Nyet. ” Alex’s voice was cold but strained. She was obviously lying. “Really? ” Toecaps scoffed, but he was interrupted as the man on the speaker began shouting loudly through sobs. Tu menti, puttana! ” he cried out in Italian, but still Alex said nothing.

He was angry, that much was clear, but there was something else there as well. He sounded betrayed, speaking with more conviction than before. Nevertheless, I couldn’t understand a word. It was cruel of me to think it, but it was better him than me. I didn’t know what he was to Alex, but I could only assume that he didn’t mean as much to her as he’d hoped. The man was cut off as the sound of approaching footsteps was heard on his end of the device. Toecaps turned off the speaker “His name is Jack Inzerillo. ” Toecaps sounded bored. According to him, you know each other quite well. ”

Alex said nothing, but I heard her breath hitch when there was a sickening crack – probably the sound of bones breaking. When Jack began to scream, my fears were confirmed. I didn’t even know the man, but I felt sick and close to tears all the same. Did they expect me to sit here and listen to them torturing him? When I thought about it, there were many reasons as to why I could be there – the men shot in the alleyway, Jonny Jonny, the pen I gave to the Joker, maybe even Danny – but surely these men wouldn’t know about any of them?

Maybe being an employee at Arkham was bad enough – it wasn’t exactly a popular institution. “Still don’t recognise him? ” Toecaps was getting impatient. If Alex replied, I couldn’t hear it over the rapid breathing and pleading from the speaker. The victim choked out a hardly audible per favour before his voice was forcibly muffled. The speaker continued to crackle. “So if we were to SHOOT JACK INZERILLO IN THE HEAD, you wouldn’t care? ” Toecaps barked and Jack let out a muffled cry of protest. “I don’t know him. ” Alex’s resolve was wavering, but her apathy stunned me.

Yeah sure, I’d dealt with psychopaths and sociopaths, but Alex wasn’t cruel. She was just indifferent. Maybe I was wrong – maybe she didn’t know him. My thoughts were interrupted when two pairs of gloved hands grabbed at my shoulders and hauled me to my feet. I was immediately dragged away from Alex presumably out of the room. Everytime I tried to walk on my own two feet I’d be shoved off balance by my captors. Eventually, I was thrown down onto a wooden floor as the door slammed behind me, blocking of the sound of Inzerillo’s screaming. he canvas sack was suddenly pulled harshly off my head.

I instinctively tried to raise my hand to block out the glare of the lights, but my wrists were still bound tightly behind my back. Instead I squinted and waited for my eyes to adjust. The room was surprisingly small and was made entirely out of breeze block. I was facing the wall, but I didn’t risk turning around. Toecaps was stood directly in front of me with two canvas bags in his gloved fist. There was another silence. “But as I was saying, it’ll be in your interest to cooperate. ” He could’ve meant anything by that, but none of us were brave enough to question him. Miss Lestrange. ”

It wasn’t a question – I guess he knew I wasn’t brave enough to try and argue. “Doctor Lestrange, yes. ” I couldn’t help but correct him. He may’ve had the upper hand, but I still had my title for all it was worth. Toecaps said nothing; he didn’t look impressed. A hand curled into a fist in my hair and pulled my head backwards for Toecaps to study my face. Evidently he was suspicious of my honesty. I couldn’t blame him. In Gotham, it was wiser to trust a liar than a truther; at least you knew could trust them to be untrustworthy.