Why So Serious? (Heath Ledger)

Chapter 14

I awoke on my bathroom floor; rubbing my eyes, I sat up. I couldn't think of anything for a moment, couldn't remember who I was, or where I was.

But only for a moment.

Shaking, I slowly stood up, placing both my hands on the bathroom counter around the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. My eyes were still watery and red, my hair a mess, and my heart- well, it was gone.

It had crumbled into nothingness; it wasn't there anymore. I looked at my curling iron, still sitting on the sink.

I gripped it in my left hand. I looked up at the mirror again, then without even thinking I took a step back and threw it, threw it as hard as I could.

I watched, as if in slow motion, as the mirror shattered into a million pieces, covering my face as the shards of glass were thrown all about the bathroom.

I silently walked into the kitchen. I looked at the microwave and saw that it was only 4:00 a.m.

I stood there, carefully thinking. Thinking that John was the only one who would have stopped my decision. But now it was too late, I'd made up my mind, I made a promise. And I didn't plan on breaking it any time soon.

I took all of my kitchen knives, walked into my bedroom, and threw them on my bed. Along with the knives, I went into my closet and threw everything I'd gotten, from the previous day, on the bed.

Hair dye, a black suit, one that maybe you'd see a spy wear, it was black and skin tight for better flexibility. I'd gotten two belts that you could carry items in. Black boots with a rough bottom, to cause friction. And more, but you get the gist.

I had the knives on the bed. But I'd still be missing something..... My identity? I couldn't have people knowing who I was, and I sure as hell wasn't going to walk around with a pile of makeup on my face.

My mask! I looked all around my room for my mask. Finally I ducked down on the floor to see that it was under my bed. I grabbed a pair of scissors in my room and begin to cut the mask so that it looked nothing more than a simple mask. One to cover my face.

The only problem was that it was white and gold. I needed it to be black.

Then I remembered the black spray paint I had in my bathroom, from when I had painted a picture frame.... but that was over a year ago.

I ran into my bathroom and let out a brief scream of pain as a peice of glass cut into my foot.

"Danmit!"

Lifting my foot up, I took the glass shard out, it hadn't gone in too deep, but still, it hurt like hell.

More carefully this time, I went under the sink and grabbed my spray paint from one of the drawers. I came out of the bathroom and started to spray the mask until it was a dark deep black.

I set it in the bathroom sink to let it dry. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a broom to clean up the bathroom. Once I was finished I grabbed the white hair die from the bed and closed the bathroom door as I walked towards the shower.

About 40 minutes later, I opened the bathroom door, freshly blow dried hair draped over my right shoulder. But my hair was no longer a deep shade of brown.

No, it was now white, like snow. My eye brows still dark brown. I walked over to my bed with my towel on and grabbed the black suit.

I dropped the towel on the floor and quickly put on the suit, examining myself in the mirror. It was a nice fit, and felt very light-weighted. As if I weren't wearing anything at all.

I put on the boots and a pair of black leather-like gloves, the same texture as my suit.

I went over to the bathroom and found a hairband on the sink. I neatly put my hair up in a high pony tail, then I went back to the bed.

I looked down at the two belts I'd bought. They were about four inches wide each, black, and a very strong material.

Instead of putting them around my waist, I put the first across my right shoulder and under my left arm, and did the opposite to the other one. They were quite loose, but I could easily stich them on so they wouldn't come off.

I went into the bathroom again and came out with my mask. I stood in front of my body length mirror in my bedroom and slowly put on the mask.

This mask would be my identity. With this mask I could be anything, nothing, yet everything. I would be neither just good, or bad..... I would just be.

Batman wasn't good enough for this town, he couldn't even save John, or me when I'd been kidnapped by the Joker for the first time.

No, soon enough, this city would belong to me, I would hold Gotham in my hands and no one; not the police. Not Batman. Not the Joker. No one, was going to stand in my way.