Just Paint Your Face

I awoke automatically, of course.

I always woke up before everyone else in the warehouse. Instead of climbing out of the bed quickly and quietly while Joker tossed at the far and opposite end, I lay for a while, savoring the feeling of his arms placed around me. He mumbled lightly here and there, but it was soft and pleasant. Nothing like his screams before.

I didn't want it to end, that peaceful moment. But I knew it was going to eventually. It was only a matter of time. Maybe there would be others, maybe not. This was the norm of living with a sociopath. Everyday was crazy, everyday was off balance, everyday was something else. I turned to face him, careful not to wake him. He was wonderful to look at, even with the deep craters and jagged edges that trailed from his lips. In fact, they enhanced him. He was something hauntingly handsome, frighteningly appealing. Perfectly imperfect.

I reached out to touch them, and he twitched slightly, blinking his brown eyes open. I drew back.

He whispered unexpectedly, "Touch em."

"We have to go soon." I said simply, trying to turn away and separate. But he held fast.

"You're not my secretary, don't tell me when I 'have to go'. Pretty soon you're gonna start scheduling when I need to piss."

I laughed.

"Just shut up and touch me."

He shut his eyes as I ran my fingers over his face.

He pinched me. I cried out and he laughed, kissing me.

I scowled and kissed him back. I was falling... had fallen... for a madman. And I didn't care. His kisses were treacherous, dangerous. They thrilled me even more.

There was a rap on his door and he groaned, "Go away."

"The girl don't have nothin to eat, Boss. I can't cook." He snapped up then, rolling his neck and staring at the wall, as if some inner voice was saying something. He licked his lip, reaching for his shirt, ranting as he did so.

"Goofy doesn't know anything, except how to wipe out people he doesn't like."

I scoffed, "What about you?"

"I know how to make food. And read. I was a chemist, you know." He declared indignantly. He shook his hair, not bothering with the make up this early in the morning. He walked out before I could object or make movement to get out of bed. I shrugged, picking up the book he'd dropped earlier.

Daisy

Lame.

Lame lame laaaaame.

No good food. Just cookies and chips and vegetables. I found some eggs in the crappy little fridge, but hell if I knew how to cook them. I'd never learned anything useful. Not if my father could help it. I'd asked the guy named Goofball to help me, but he simply shrugged and walked away. What a weirdo. Whatever. I'd tell Ivy later. She'd do something. I opened and shut a makeshift cupboard and sighed out of frustration. I heard someone shuffle in and turned.

I gasped.

His makeup was gone. It was strange. I'd never seen him without it. He looked like a normal dude, just a little messy, that's all. His hair was hanging out wherever and his shirt was only half tucked in. Oh, and the scars. Oh and the dark circles under his eyes. And the yellow teeth. Those were the only things that gave him away (okay so maybe not "only), otherwise I would've yelled at the dude to get out or I would tell Ivy they were bothering me.

But he wasn't one of the dudes, and Ivy would never touch him. Not in a bad way of course, unless I lied. I wouldn't. Because I liked him for some reason. He was funny, even if he was creepy. He yawned, scratching his neck.

I stood, my arms crossed.

"What do you want?" He scowled, licking his lip. I wanted to ask why he did that so much. It didn't make a whole lot of sense, unless you were half lizard or something.

"Uh..." I sighed awkwardly. It was very nerve-racking, talking to this guy, "I'm hungry. I don't know..."

"You want eggs?"

I nodded.

He nodded. I don't know if he was just mocking me or not.

I propped myself up onto the counter, watching him in curiosity. He was really clumsy. It was a wonder how he killed people and hadn't been caught by now. He dropped an egg and cursed.

I spoke up, timidly at first.

"I need some stuff. Like a toothbrush. And clothes. And, you know, books. So I can keep learning something."

His head snapped up and he looked like he was thinking for a second, "We'll get that stuff later. But, I-I uh, have some books..."

"Really? What?"

"Aristotle. Sacrotes. Diogenes. Diogenes is my favorite."

He had favorites? I didn't know psycho people liked things.

"What's a Diagoines?"

He shook his head, "Ancient philosophy. Cynic. Sacrotes gone mad. Ring a bell? Hm?"

"Nah. You got eggshell in there."

He rolled his eyes impatiently, picking out the eggshell and throwing it in my hair.

"Hey!" I frowned, throwing it back. He giggled that spooky giggle of his.

There was silence as I watched him take up a frying pan. He mimed hitting me with it and I flinched. He giggled again.

"Hey..." I piped up, "Can I, um, go with you guys today?"

"What?"

"To the Gambling thing. I wanna see how it is."

He shook his head deliberately this time, his mouth a thin line.

I sighed, persisting, "Come on.. I just want to sit in the truck or whatever. Besides... do you really want to leave me here alone without Ivy?"

I heard him whisper something suddenly. Sounded like "so much blood."

"What?" I said.

He waved me off suddenly, turning on an old stove, "Yeah yeah yeah. Just.. just go watch TV or... or play with a stick or something. Whatever you kids do."

I hopped off, silently cheering.

I passed some of the men who were waking up. They groaned and mumbled down the hall like zombies. It made me laugh. Some of them looked at me strangely, even fearfully, muttering that I was, "just as fucked up in the head as they are." Most walked on, mumbling or complaining about voices in their heads.

I heard the door at the far end of the hall shut. It was Ivy. She looked energized and radiant, as always. Like a Mom should be. Not like my Mom was, with the disease that ate her up slowly, swallowing her from the inside. I guess Ivy had something eating at her from the inside as well, but the kind of thing that made her more alive, and not frail.

She smiled when she saw me.

"You eat yet?" She called.

"No. But I got a chef. What's that?" I pointed at the book in her hands.

"Diogenes." She turned the book over, eyebrows scrunched together in curiosity.

"Oh." I shrugged.

We watched the morning show for a while, Ivy played with my hair, singing softly. She liked to sing. She was almost always humming or whistling. She had a pretty voice, so no one objected. The men were either sleeping or just waking up or in the kitchen hunting for their own food. The Joker joined us a few minutes later, though you couldn't really tell it was him until you saw how he moved and the scars on his face illuminated by the pale glow of the television.

He threw a plate of bagels at Ivy, who blinked up at him, shocked. Then he shoved my plate into my hands. His own was piled with scrambled eggs and some bacon. Both my eggs were sunny side up, and the bacon was arranged in a smile.

I stared at the shriveled pieces of bacon making up the 'smile' and looked back at his scars.

This guy's sense of humor was totally wack.

We ate in silence. It felt weird. Like we were some fucked up version of the Brady Bunch. The Joker finished first. As some of the other men lumbered in with their plates, he stood. I saw Goofy smile at us. The Joker was mumbling to himself. I think he was trying to figure out what he wanted to do first.

"Go take a piss." Ivy interjected suddenly. He whirled. I thought he was going to hit her for a second. But he just stared. Then he started laughing. She laughed, obviously in on the joke. I laughed, because I couldn't help myself. The men laughed because they were scared.

"Goofy, Happy, Ivy, Daisy," he suddenly barked, "You're along for the jobs today." His voice was rough, scratchy, commanding, and nasally. Like a nerd, even. Still, it had a presence. He stalked out of the room and it was quiet again.

Brady Bunch. Yeah right.