Chapter 22

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The next couple of weeks passed by quickly, so did word of my case. I'd gone from the criminal courts, to the Supreme courts. And now here I was, sitting in the court room, awaiting my sentencing.

Of course Gordan pulled some strings, got me the best lawyer that money could afford. How ironic, that the person pleading my future, was Harvey Dent.

I thought back to the night at the Masquerade ball. I'd spent that time laughing and drinking with this man. We'd been friends, at least... then.

I looked over at at Dent, who was shuffling through papers and neatly laying them out upon the table at which we sat. I looked over to the other table too, there sat two people I didn't know, lawyers perhaps of my murder victim's family.

I didn't need to look to know that the bus driver was here, I could smell his greasy hair from a mile away. There's was no escaping this one either, guards stood at the entrances and exists. Tazors and guns at their belts.

I looked down at my hands, which of course were handcuffed. I'll admit that they felt more comfortable than the clothes I'd been fitted with. Harvey and Gordan had advised that I look professional for the prececution, anything to make me seem less a threat would help.

Harvey leaned in close to my left ear.

"Alright, so here's how it's going to play out. You, your going to sit here and let me do the talking. Do not say anything unless you have to, or I tell you it's alright. You do remember your amendments?"

I nodded expressionlessly, staring down.

"Ok, we're hoping to have your Asylum time shorter than your probation, so we've brought the owner of one of Gothams most famous Asylum. His name is Dr. Jonathan Crane. We've made sure that he'll take good care of you."

I looked up from my handcuffs, staring hard at Dent.

"I just.... I don't understand? Why are you helping me? Why are you doing this?" I sighed, and he looked down a moment, before looking up with a Stern expression.

"Because Alissa, none of this was your fault. I knew who you were, if only a little, but that was still enough to know that once you were a good person. And could still be. Whatever the circumstances, it was the him. He took you, messed with your mind. Tortured you, stole from you. So that's why. I don't believe in letting him win. Ever."

I raised my eyebrows, I had finally just admitted to myself that I had lost. Confessed that he had won. But here Harvey was, telling me he'd never win, which was what I once thought. How ignorant of me. No, how ignorant of him.

"Alright, I'm willing to cooperate.... anything you need me to do, I'll do it."

A flicker of hatred flashed across my face for a moment. I hated the Joker, I really did. With every piece of my inch of my being, I really believed that.

Suddenly the room became silent, although you could still clearly hear many people shuffling to get comfortable. Harvey leaned close to me, and spoke in a whisper.

"Before we begin, I need you to sign some papers that swear you under oath, think you can mange while I run a quick errand?"

He handed me some papers and a pen, standing up to leave. I looked at him confused.

"Errand? Right now?"

He quickly looked toward the doors.

"I'd rather not explain, but I'll only be a few minutes."

And with that, he was gone.

I scanned over the papers, reading them carefully, making sure they did what he said they did. Without looking, I reached for the pen at the far edge of the table, using my right hand.

Why So Serious?                 (Heath Ledger)Where stories live. Discover now