Sicko Psycho (Heath Ledger Joker)

Chapter Two

She walked quietly down the stairs, the silent pitter patters of her feet hotting the step were almost inaudible. Halfway down the steps she could see him laying in his recliner silently whispering to himself as tears fell down his eyes. She's talking to him. She thought, that must be why he's crying, why he's whispering. He can hear her! She stopped walking quietly and ran down the steps with loud creaks and thumps.

"Daddy!" She called excitedly. He perked his head up, looking at her gleeful frame. She reached the end of the steps and ran to him, jumping excitedly in his lap. He rolled his eyes, not interested in her childish bable. Couldn't she see he wanted to be alone?

"What, kid?" He said annoyed. She winced slightly by his tone and hurt by still not calling him by her real name.

"Dad-Daddy, I hear her too." He looked at her puzzlingly, confusion spread across his face.

"What do you mean her, Eleanor." Her eyes widened, he hasn't said her name since she died, only calling her by 'kid'.... but now he calls her by a name that isn't even hers?!

"Daddy, it's Emily!" She yells. Her dad grows a face of concern, worried that he didn't notice how hard she had taken her death. He felt guilt rise in his chest, he knew he shouldn't have ignored her. She looked at him with anger, her tiny hands balled into fists. Something took over, as if her body had lost its control and was played by a new gameplayer one who didn't play fair. Cheater. 

"I'm not Eleanor, I'm not Eleanor!" She chanted at the top of her lungs. Fear slapped him in the face, concern had grown to a larger feeling now.  Disturbed. She punched her tiny fists into his chest, anger taking over her completely. Still repeating her chant. He gripped her shoulders tightly. He knew how to deal with this, he studied for years, practiced it, worked with it.

"Emily." He said quietly. Her eyes tightly sealed split open, looking into his deep, dark eyes.

"Emily, I'm sorry. I've just been so upset lately, m-my mind is everywhere right now." What he spoke was truth but he didn't expect saying these words in this sitiuation, not now.

She breathed heavily, her hands unflinching and her body relaxing a bit.

"Emily..." He said again. The foreign name uncommon to his tongue. Where is my daughter.

"Emily, do you forgive me, and will you tell me who you heard?" He said calmly.  She closed her eyes, her head dangling down looking toward her lap. Her body was limp and she breathed silently.

Do it, Emily! You know you want to, he hurt you, called you a different name. He won't understand us! Don't tell him! She mumbled to her voice contemplating weather to it.

"No mommy, I have to know if he's like me." She whispered. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. She felt nervous and was worried if mommy was right, would he not understand? She looked past her questions and insecurities as a wave of confidence flooded through her. Her face went from weak and vulnerable to hard, expressionless face that was cold and dark. The other side of her. The other voice spoke now, encouraged her to tell him. It wasn't mommy, but she thought that he was okay. Mommy and the other voice started arguing in her head. Making a migraine form. She winced and clenched her head and she fell to the ground. Scratching her scalp and mumbling to the voices to shush. Her father wriggled with fear of his daughter, it was way worse than he thought. He should have been there, should have noticed. It was his job to to notice, he was a psychologist after all.

"Daddy.... help!" She called from the ground, her hands culling her head as she curled into a ball and cried. He rushed down to her not knowing what was wrong with her head, did it hurt her when she fell?