I am writing this letter to humor my new psychiatrist. She thinks it will help but we all know it won't. She's cute so maybe I will let you meet her someday.
She wants me to write out all my anger and frustration i feel for you. But I am not angry with you. You made me who I am, you play all my favorite games with me. Granted you tend to take away my play things from time to time but even when I throw a tantrum that doesn't mean will never forgive you.
Nonetheless I need to write something to make her happy. Where to begin, where to begin?
Why don't we start with mom? Do you remember her? She was 14. You had your reasons; you lost everything you ever loved and had all sorts of rage and pain you had to get out. So you shoved that little seed of rage into Mom and made me.
From what Mommy's diaries tell me I was the only one. It's a good thing too, imagine what would happen if had brothers and sisters to get in the way of our little game. I think I would have to kill them just to make sure I stayed your favorite.
I am your favorite, right Daddy?
As soon as you found out about me, you ran. I don't blame you. I understand. I was a huge responsibility. What if you failed me like your parents failed you? So you ran and hoped for the best.
All things considered, those first few years were the best I could get. Mom and Grandma locked themselves in the house for 9 months. The diaries say that they told everyone Grandma was pregnant so no one was too surprised when I showed up.
I was a cute baby and hardly ever fussed. I think you would have liked me as a baby. But you didn't want to disappoint me and that is okay.
One day, when I was 5, my grandparents were shot down in a terrible misunderstanding. Turns out my granddad was a gangster of sort and someone had a vendetta against him. Who would have guessed. Not little old me, that's for sure.
Suddenly a single mom, Mommy and I went to you house to see if we get money or me to live on. You were still gone but you had a friend watching it for you. He let us into the house. It was so big.
I can remember imagining what it would be living in such a place. Your friend was getting us tea and things seemed to be looking up.
Mommy downed the cup, stupid woman. I only took a polite sip since my stomach was in knots. As soon as Mommy started twitching your friend excused himself to get some cakes.
Her twitches turned into convulsions, but she didn't cry. She kept forcing herself to say "It will be alright," through bloodied lips until there was too much blood to talk through.
Sometimes when I close my eyes I see her forced smile. Nothing but that smile, like a cheshire cat's grin hanging right behind my eyelids.
I don't remember running or how I made it to the streets. I remember making it home and falling into a puddle of bloody vomit. I thought was going to die like mom did. So i curled up with Mom's diaries like Mom would when she got sad.
I must have been screaming because the police came and took me to the hospital. I remember the applause when it was determined I would live. A lot of men in fancy coats patted each other on their backs.
They tried to figure out what happened and I lied. Told the I ate something funny on the street. They knew I was lying, but I knew I had to keep the secret
You see, I don't blame your friend for doing this to me. He was trying to protect you and your family name. What would people think if they found out you had a bastard son? No one would respect you. So I will keep that secret.
The doctors did a bunch of tests. They said the poison had hurt my brain and were amazed at how 'high functioning' I was. Eventually they released me to the orphanage with all the other bastard kids.
Immediately I set to work to prove to you I was worth your attention. I could be the best hier you would ever want. I studied business and money management. I read up on the history of your family and looked forward to the day you returned.
As soon as people were buzzing about your return I packed my bags and waited for you to come to the orphanage.
Years went by, but I kept waiting. I was a lanky preteen when you finally showed up. You weren't looking for an heir, but I Was still ecstatic because you were looking for workers.
I practically ran to help you. If I could just talk to you then you would just know I was everything you needed in a son.
You told us to take boxes to the basement. Then you disappeared. First time you did that in front of me. It still gives me goosebumps when you do it. Sometime I pretend you do it just for me, like a magic trick a dad does for his son. I know you do it for other people though, I'm not delusional.
There were so many boxes we had to move into such a tiny space. But the basement never got crowded with each box I would look for a tick door, but some no name loser found it first. He also found out that little secret of yours. I peeped through behind him and as soon i realized you had this secret the kid was running off to tell on you.
You see he was part of a local gang and his boss would have loved knowing it.
I took off after him and it wasn't until we were right in front of the hideout that i caught him.
It was a really crude murder, all i had on me was a fountain pen and I wasn't exactly sure where the jugular vein was. But when you consider it was my first murder, it really wasn't that bad; I did make him properly dead.
But I had a witness; the gang leader. I assume it was a shock seeing me covered in his goon’s blood, but instead of killing me he asked me why I did it.
I told him he tried to steal something from me and I had to get it back.
As we both know, killing can get you in a mess of trouble or, in this case, a job. He hired me on the spot and then had some of his boys show me how to properly dispose of the body. I was the Hood’s (or at least that’s what we called him) go to guy when it came to killing, mugging or just roughing someone up.
It was a good job, all things considered. I was paid well and had times for my hobbies. I kept tabs on you and people you dealt with. I also took out those who found out your secret. It was only one or two people, mostly goons who stuck their noses where they don’t belong.
Talking about noses, did you know you broke mine? First time you crashed a little party of mine and some goons. It was nice, like a father son thing. I took out my knife and you punched me in the face. I was out before the fight even got good.
I wasn’t going to stab you. You’re my dad, I can’t do that.
You crashed many of the Hood’s parties. He wanted someone dead, you were there to save them. He wanted someone kidnapped, you were there to save them. I remember this one time where he wanted a bomb placed under a car and you were already there waiting for us to show up. You chipped my tooth that day, Dad. It was amazing.
Everything was awesome, I got to see you on a regular basis. We would spend a few minutes together and those were some of the happiest days for me.
Then the Hood found out your secret and wanted you dead. He came to me to get it done because I never let him down. Even though you beat me up each time, I still got the job done. The killings, the kidnapping and even that car bomb. I would just wait for you to leave. He thought he could trust me to do this job. ‘A simple murder’ he said, ‘some high born bloke.’ But we both knew he wanted to rid the world of your secret.
He had taken me up and out of the streets and treated me like a son. I held nothing against him, but he knew your secret. Only I was aloud to know your secret. I was your son and it was my responsibility to make sure I had some tie to you that no one else did.
So I killed him. He didn’t even see it coming. He turned to walk away after I accepted the job and I stabbed him through the rib cage into the heart. Hardly made a sound. Funny thing is, when I ripped the mask off his face, he was smiling a blood tinged smile.
I took his mask and shoved it in my pocket. I enlisted a couple of the flunkies to take care of the body. It still makes me chuckle that they didn’t know they were disposing of their leader’s body. The looks on their faces when they found out he was dead. It was cute.
After they took his body I took up his mask, but I knew I couldn’t keep up the rouse for long. We weren’t even the same body type. So I devised a plan. I planned on committing suicide. Told everyone there was going to be a big heist at the power plant. You were always early and I relied on that. I didn’t want goons, or flunkies to get in the way of Father/Son time. They would have taken my attention.
I wanted you to kill me. But you wouldn’t, you are too soft sometimes. There I was, behind the mask of one of the biggest crime bosses and you refused to kill me. So I ran crying like a little baby. Why couldn’t you love me? Accept me as your son or accept me as someone you had to kill? I had killed dozens, it isn’t that hard to take a life.
But you wouldn’t and let me run off. Then I tripped and fell into the vat of acid like a fool. The acid didn’t hurt half as bad as the sight of you trying to save me did. I was a murderer. While you were out trying to save people, I was out trying to hurt people. The two people who meant something to me died with a smile on their faces so I smiled through the pain. Funny thing is, I never saw you smile, so I decided to smile for you.
As you know, I survived the acid. That night I decided to be what you needed most. You needed to save people. So now I give you people you have to save, and if you don’t save them, I win that round. I think at some point you found out I am your son. Probably when I killed one of the kids you took up to join you in your vigilante crusades. You know I would have happily been your boy wonder…
But no, you wear your cape and cowl while you try to save the day. And I will wear my smile while I try to ruin it.
Your little Joker.