The Joker's Concubine

The early afternoon sunshine fell across her bed, waking her from a deep sleep. She stretched her limbs with a moan, and rolled over onto her side. She stared at the wall a moment, trying to convince herself to get out of bed.

With sudden clarity, the events of the previous evening came rushing back over her. She closed her eyes, and could feel his fingers on her throat and hear his eerie voice echoing through her mind.

She climbed out of bed, wincing on her swollen ankle. She stumbled sleepily into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Sweet Jesus, she thought. I look like hell. She had dark circles under her gaunt eyes, and a little dried blood from the gash on her head. Worse still was the ring of purple bruises circling her slender neck. She blushed at the memory of him standing there, holding her life in his hands. She felt a sharp stab of shame as she remembered how aroused she had been when he had released her. You weren't supposed to enjoy things like that. Not if you were a good girl at least.

But of course, she wasn't a good girl, no matter what the Joker had said last night. Her mother had known. She had told her the night she kicked Desiree out. "I tried to teach you to be good. I'm a failure, and you're a lost cause. Get out." Her mother had blamed her for everything that had happened.

She splashed her face with cool water trying to drown her mother's voice from her head. She turned on the shower, slipped her dress off, and stepped into the hot water. She turned the heat up until it was nearly scalding, and let it beat down upon her weary body. She could hear those long ago words in her head. Desiree, such a beautiful girl. Do you know what Desiree means? It's French for desired one.

No. No, she refused to go there again. Reliving the past wasn't going to change things. It wasn't going to make anything better. Maybe Mamma was right that night. Maybe I AM just...bad. She had been choked near to death by a psychotic stranger and she had enjoyed it. What did that say about her? It was no wonder she had turned out this way. Maybe she was always destined for this kind of life.

Of course, the Joker wasn't the first. She'd had rough sex before; it was a common request. She had figured out that she must be...broken...in some way years ago, because she only seemed to orgasm when it was violent, when it was painful, when she was frightened of the man on top of her.

A loud knock at the door broke through her musings. She turned the water off, wrapped a towel around herself and walked to the door. She opened it to see an empty hallway. What the hell? Then she looked down at her feet and saw the manila envelope. Curious, she picked it up and walked back inside.

When she opened it, she found it contained two items: a key, and a single playing card, with the face of a smiling joker. Typed in small letters were the words, "Sunrise Apts, #23. You've just been dealt a new hand." Below the image, was another line of type. "P.S. Better hurry. Offer expires at 3pm."

She sat there, stunned. She looked at the key again, and then back to the playing card. What was he offering? Another rendezvous? So soon? What did he mean by "offer"? She looked at her watch. 2:15. Sunrise Apartments were way across town. She'd never make it, even if she left this second. Wait, why am I wondering if I can make it on time? I can't be stupid enough to follow through on this. But in her mind, she saw his almost-black eyes boring into hers and remembered the feel of his hands sliding up over her hips.

Her life had been drudgery for years. Day in and day out, the same old things. But the Joker was something new. He was dangerous, yes...but exciting. She felt a magnetic pull towards him that she had never felt before. In that moment, she made up her mind. Anything was better than the life she had now. Any risk was worth it, even if it just meant a change of scenery. Sure he might kill her. But then again, so might any random John on any evening of her life. She was 26 years old. Most street girls didn't make it past 30 without something horrible happening to them. Her chances with the Joker couldn't be any worse that the ones she was already facing. The Joker was a very powerful man. He was intelligent, attractive in a bizarre way...and he wanted her. Desiree. Little Desiree who got kicked out of her house at age 16 because she would never be "good" enough.

She looked at her watch again. 2:20. She had to leave, now. She ran back to the bathroom, slipped her dress back on and then grabbed her handbag off the table. She rushed out into a street, hailed a cab, and sped off towards the opposite side of town.

It was 2:53 when the cab pulled up in front of the Sunrise Apartments. She threw some money at the driver and then entered the building. She had to take an elevator up to the 2nd floor. 2:55.

She stepped off the elevator and looked at the numbers on the doors. Number 23 was on the opposite end of the hallway. She rushed towards it, watching the brass number plate grew larger. She finally stood in front of the door and reached for the handle. It was 2:58. She fished through her bag for the key and inserted it into the look. 2:59. She took a very deep breath to compose herself, swung the door open, and then walked into the first day of the rest of her life.