JOKER

They called it the House of Clowns, but it felt more like a prison to me. A place where people were forced into roles they never chose, a refuge for outcasts with nowhere else to go. It was made for the amusement of others, but never for the happiness of those trapped inside. Slowly, it was draining me-stripping away not just my joy, but the core of who I once was. If I could remember anything from before this place, maybe I'd hold onto it. But all I know now is this-a life of smeared colors, an endless performance for an invisible audience.

They say what doesn't break you makes you stronger. But that's a lie. It doesn't build you up; it wears you down, piece by piece until all that's left is the mask you wear.

***

I've told myself over and over that people will always try to tear you down. It's a reflex-they crush your hopes because they can't bear to see you rise above them. They want you in the shadows so they feel bigger and more secure. How I despise them.

And they call me a clown? No, the real clowns are the ones who wear fake smiles and pretend everything's perfect in their little worlds. It's all a joke-a joke that stops being funny when their world falls apart. And when it does, they'll drag you down with them, taking whatever's left of your smile.