2000, May
The old torture chamber was placed in the basement.
You won't escape.
You can't.
How long I've been here?
I don't remember anything about it.

My lips were parched and hunger growled in my stomach. I cracked open my eyes to better perceive how deep in the darkness I was.

It's just a dream, right?

God, let me wake up. Please...

I kept sleeping, hoping it was all a dream. I thought that if I woke up, I would be laying on my blue bed snuggling over a warm thick blue blanket as I can see plenties of star bulbs hanging on the ceiling of my room. Instead, I was still leaning on this dirty, dusty, smelly bed.

It was always cold...

Now, going home seems like just a dream to me.

I only remember the faint memories of following a man. I tried so hard to remember his face, and how could I woke up here, but I've got nothing. All I did was I prayed to God every day, counting the days that I could barely count. He visited at random times. He never showed his face and always wore a creepy black mate Joker-like mask. A mask with a wide smile, sharp cheekbones, and smiling black eyes. Whenever he enters the room, he made some silly voices, in most disturbing ways. I couldn't figure out how to manage myself to stay calm, because the Joker didn't like it when I showed him that I'm scared. Or... I'll be beaten or skinned...

I can never escaped his grips, he is tall, huge and strong. I could see thick abs of his arms below the dim-light, and straight, shoulder-length oily black hair that smells like cooking oil. The only thing he had that caught my very attention was a black knife tattoo on his left shoulder blade.

Everything about this place was a nightmare. The stench of rotting flesh coming from this tiny, cramped room made me sick. Sweat, blood, urine, and feces, possibly vomit thickens around the room and fleshing out its smells. My eyes adapted to the darkness, I don't need to crawl when I need to go to the toilet that was placed in the corner of the room, left side of the entrance, only a single dirty brown toilet bowl with washbasin beside it. Sometimes there's a yellow light coming from the thick steel-made entrance, there's where the Joker mask man came from with his metal flashlight. If I ever cry or show my fears, this psycho would stab or beat me for fun, for the reason "I punish you because I love you as my child".

Whenever he brought his huge plastic case, I could smell metallic scent and blood smeared on his equipments. The Joker would ask me to eat random things sometimes like I have to eat bugs, feces, or drink urine or bloods. I have no choice but to obey, or else I'm going to be killed before I could find a way out.

But even though that day...
Thudding headache, my eyes closed against the dull pain. The back of my skull throbbed like a whore's heart; I bit out a curse and moved my hand to inspect the damage - except that it didn't move. My legs, and arms, were immobilized, as I noticed when I tried to get up. To get up... I couldn't. My face was white and blistering, eyelids were swollen nearly shut. He battered me if I ever stop doing what he asked. My body ached. I could barely move a muscle. Cries came from deep within my chest by the time it left me cracking lips. I tried to say something, but it came out as nothing but a guttural bark. The knife shook violently in my hand as he approached me, then running away like a clown and laughing wickedly. My lip quivered, and my body trembled. I stared at him, my face smeared with dirt and blood.

I always think this life is empty. I had always wanted to die. I thought that death was the easiest way to escape life. But then, somehow, even "to die" isn't easy.

He looked down at me as I begged and pleaded so much so, that I could not handle it anymore, "P-please! Just-- kill... me...-"
"Shut up! Just shut up!!!" dropping the knife he cursed and looked at me with rage, "Look what you made me do!"
I was as good as dead, a lamb awaiting slaughter. I coughed violently sending a thin spray of crimson blood onto the dirty cement floor. That slight tremor increased in intensity until I physically shook in time with it.

I couldn't take it anymore. It hurts so bad.

The Joker laughed as he was leaving, skipping his legs while locking the door from outside. I dropped my body to the ground, bawling at my unfortunate.

"I can't take this anymore" I wanted to die, I wanted him to kill me quickly. Please kill me now.

Am I a bad kid that God punish me this way?

I decided to run when there was a golden chance in front of my eyes. I kept running until I reached the wooden door, which was decorated with red roses and I got my skin cut by the sharp stalk, but when he came back on time and found me, he punished me... by smashing my leg with a metal bat.
"I punish you because I love you as my child!!!", he screamed.

I can't sleep for days, I can barely feel my leg. I couldn't walk, I couldn't go to the toilet properly. I dragged my body if I need to move.

"Please just let me die" I kept mumbling. My vision blurred, and I could only breathe slowly.

On that final day, I could see a little light when the Joker opened the door. He was holding a huge knife, a knife that could slice open my throat in one slash. My head felt like spinning, I fainted when he tortured me worst than ever.

A steady dripping echoed all around him, but it seemed to come from a single source. The boy was hanged on his legs with his head upside down. The masked man's shadow stabbed his. Joker poked blood from his body and drew something with his finger on the grey cement wall.