Just Paint Your Face

My eyes snapped open at dawn.

I was still alive.

Just a dream... Just a hallucination.

I felt fine. Better than fine, actually. I felt... great. I sighed, immediately stuck on the idea of showering and going back to work.

When I heard the rustle of leaves shifted my body, I cursed.

Fuck. I knew better than to use the "it was a dream" excuse. I struggled awkwardly in my cocoon, wondering how I was going to get out, but careful not to harm any bit of my old friend.

An idea hit me.

"I have to get to work now." I whispered, feeling a little stupid. No movement. I sighed.

"Please, get off. I've got to get going." This time, there was a gentle rustle and slowly... ever so slowly, my pale skin began to come into view as the uncoiled, retreating into the dining room. I gaped, shocked, slapping my face to see if I was awake.

"Holy shit." I whispered, feeling my body. Everything was fine. In fact, my bruises were completely gone. My attention turned back to the living vines. I cocked my head.

"Stop." I said aloud.

They stopped.

"Pick up the remote, please." I couldn't believe the words coming out of my mouth, as if commanding a plant was just like teaching your dog to roll over. I was even more amazed as the bright green stems now shifted and moved off to where the TV stood, coiling around the remote.

Can it throw? I wondered.

With a clatter, the remote landed in front of me, where I stayed frozen, staring at the thing that, three days earlier, was no more than a tiny tuft of leaves.

"Thank you..." was all I could croak out. The large system of stems and leaves slinked back over to the windowsill. I watched in fascination as it shrunk obediently back into its pot, once again nothing more than a sproutlet.

I stared at the remote in my hands, caressing it, knocking on it, making sure this was all real, expecting it to fade away in front of my face. It was then, as I moved it around in my hands, that I spied the tiny coil of vine that hugged my forearm. It seemed to be coming up, directly out of my skin. I was afraid to remove it, and also didn't want to, although the shock that hit me at that moment was enough to make a grown man pass out.

But I was stronger than that. I got up, laying the remote on the table. I would not panic. I somehow knew the shit he'd given me had been more... so much more... than an antidote to poison lipstick.

The question was, did he know?

Well, he was going to find out, I smirked, sniffing myself.

"Ew." I proclaimed, disgusted. I rushed to the bathroom, throwing my clothes onto the floor as I went. I struggled to get it over my head, over my hair. I gasped. I'd pulled a lot of it out, there was no way in hell...

I eyed the mirror, gawking. My red hair had somehow grown back in the places I'd been sure to get some good tufts out. Not only that, but it was thicker, longer, and extremely strong. It had formed into some kind of a ball overnight, standing out in odd places. It was the oddest sight. Yet somehow, it was beautiful. Some stray leaves were stuck in the strands. I looked like a dandelion dipped in blood.

It suited me in a way.

"To hell if I'm going back to work like that, though." I frowned, turning on the water in the shower. Relief literally washed over me as the hot water poured over my body. When I got out, it took me nearly an hour to work my hair into something more normal looking, but I'd managed. Feeling energized and encouraged, I cleaned up the apartment. I hid the syringes and the briefcase in a bottom drawer in my closet, still not certain of how I was going to rid of the evidence. I threw out the fragments of the three paintings, which were mostly just unintelligible splotches anyway. I don't know why I'd freaked out. I hardly knew why the butcher knife lay on the floor with red paint on it.

Because you're crazy now. You're just a freak... worse than him.

I shook my head stubbornly, adjusting my long-sleeved blouse so that it kept my forearm's companion concealed. Satisfied, I walked out of the door.

When Harvey walked in my office, he blinked several times, then mumbled awkwardly, like a teenage boy on his first date.

"Well, May, you look... better. New haircut?"

"Just a new shampoo." I shrugged him off, "how's the mob bust going?"

"Eh." His pretty eyes glinted with worry, "I'll be talking to the guy over at Internal Affairs soon enough. This Joker fellow's been hard to catch... did you see the tape?"

"I was in bed the whole day." I lied, inwardly grimacing. I remembered Brian's whimpers, how The Joker had touched his face like he was comforting a kid who'd lost his ice cream cone. I found myself wondering whether or not he'd 'played' with him after wards. Something inside told me he had. People like Brian--people who dressed up like Batman or whoever--something in my heart told me he hated it. I remembered the way he'd screamed.

"LOOK AT ME!"

I shuddered. The thing that scared me the most was that my dark voice sounded the same, at times I used it. Which was, and would become more and more frequent.

"May... May? May! Hey, you okay?"

"Oh...? Uh, yeah just... spaced out for a minute."

"That illness must've taken a lot out of you." Harvey smirked sympathetically, "Take it easy. I'll see you later... got work to do."

I nodded, still contemplating.

My cell phone rang five minutes later. The number on the screen was unknown. I figured it was just a telemarketer. No one really called me on my cell other than Rachel, and she was busy working.

I raised the phone up to my ear, sighing impatiently, ready to hang up, "Yeah?"

"Ivy, Ivy, Ivy." His awkward and humorous yet bone-chilling voice sang in my ear.

"What do you want?" I hissed, shutting my office door quickly and quietly.

"You're no fun. Couldn't you just sound a little scared for me? Hm?"

"Fuck you."

"Not till at least the 5th date. I'm just not that kind of guy, you know."

I growled.

"This'll be the 3rd one, won't it? Yeah. You'll have to wait." He'd adopted a lecturing tone and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Ha ha hee hee ho ho." He responded monotonously, "Tonight, Ivy." There was a crackle as the phone hung up.

The door swung open and I jumped. "You okay?" Harvey's blue eyes flashed to my cell.

"Yes sir, everything's lovely." I gave my best smile. He smiled back this time.

If only it was... What was I doing?

As I walked down the familiar route home, it was raining lightly. I was surprised to see a group of familiar looking kids out in front of an alleyway. The alleyway. It suddenly dawned on me as I spied the girl with poorly colored green hair. They were huddled, obviously frightened, whispering quietly as they smoked cigarettes in a circle.

"They say he catches people here."

"They never come back, how would you know?"

"Because... I saw him once." The group gasped in amazement. A girl clapped her hands. I rolled my eyes, deciding to pass them.

Then I remembered Brian.

"Hey..." I grabbed the girl by the shoulder. She turned and jumped. Obviously they'd come out here on a dare or something. They all goggled at me as if I was a ghost.

I was white, but not THAT white.

"Go home." I told them, but mostly her, "what are you, stupid?"

"Look lady you ain't got a badge so fuck off..."

"Do you want to wind up on the six o clock news?"

"Leave us alone!" The girl demanded, curiosity burning wildly in her brown eyes. She obviously came from a broken home.

"No. No, I won't." I looked at them frantically, warningly, "Go home. Wash that shit off your face and out of your hair. You ought to go enjoy life, like normal kids do."

(normal who's normal what's normal certainly not you May)

They must've seen something in my eyes, for they shifted uncomfortably and shuffled away, down to the opposite side of the street. I walked to the mouth of the skinny dark space and stared. The kids turned back, watching me, cocking their heads. The girl gasped. I glanced back for a moment, then proceeded into the darkness, not caring whether or not they'd seen.

They didn't follow.

I couldn't believe that I'd remembered where he'd taken me, but I had. I blindly groped my way to the basement door, fighting back a scream when a rat brushed against my ankle. I almost slipped down the stairs but managed to make it to the door without falling. The fluorescent light hit me and I blinked as I opened the door, walking nervously down the long hallway to the room at the very end of the passage. None of his goons were there this time to stare at me, so I sighed out of relief.

I came a lone door at the end of a long hallway. I knocked. No answer. Perhaps he was out. Dare I do it? I did. I opened the door slowly.

He sat at the ugly old desk, feet clad in multi colored socks up on the top of its surface. He was staring down at the case of lipstick, clicking the top off and on. Off and on. Off and on.

I didn't think he had noticed me at all, but without looking up he said, "Hair looks like shit."

It had been raining, so the thickness was back. I shrugged. He stood suddenly, his movement making me jump a bit.

"I was worried you were going to stand me up. Was going to go to your uh... home... with a video camera."

I shuddered and swallowed, finding it hard to do so.

"But you're too easy."

I frowned, ready to argue. Then I remembered who I was dealing with.

"Sit, sit." He waved an arm at the metal chair. I did.

This time, he wheeled over the one behind his desk and faced it in front of mine, sitting down in it, humming some stupid tune.

"Hiiiii." he grinned slyly. I was tempted to laugh because it looked so silly. I saw the emotionless stare in his eyes, deciding against it. I couldn't laugh with him anyway. After what he did to me. After what he'd made me. But I would get him back for that later.

(FREAK)

I shook my head and my brow furrowed.

"I've never been good at conversation." he shrugged, fidgeting awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something, licked his lip like some sort of lizard, but decided to grab my jaw again, pulling out the lipstick. I waited patiently, praying to the god I didn't believe in that the mutative plant shit had worked for what it was supposed to, instead of what it had done. When he was finished, he smirked and yanked my ear painfully.

I gasped, "Hey, what--"

As soon as I'd opened my mouth, he pressed own unto it. I felt my skin get hot as I tried desperately to pry him off without getting him angry. No dice. I breathed inwardly, giving up. For someone who had yellow teeth and greasy hair, he didn't smell too bad. Just like gasoline, rain, and a few other combinations that made it unique. I shuddered as his tongue ran across my lips. Finally, he moved away, smacking his lips. My deeper shade of red lipstick was now covering his own.

I shook. Partly from disgust, mostly from shock.

"Had to test it. Whoo." He giggled, his nostrils flaring, "That is some potent...." his eyes widened, "...shit."

He was on the floor in seconds, grabbing at his throat and spluttering. All the while, he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed, as if the pain were some huge joke I wasn't in on. I saw him point at the boxes.

I could've left him there. Watched him die. Laughed at him while he did so, even. But instead, some sort of force drew me to the boxes. I grabbed one of the shots. They were a lighter green than the ones he'd given me to take three nights ago.

I walked over to him, standing over him, contemplating if this was the right choice.

He just kept on laughing.

I took a deep breath.

I bent and jammed the needle into his left arm.

But I was too late. He gave a chuckle, a rasping breath. His face slackened and his eyes were closed.

No. No, no, no. He couldn't leave me like this. With this fucking vine in my arm. How dare he?

"Wake up." I prodded him.

"Wake up!"

He didn't move. Didn't even appear to be breathing.

I felt tears sting my eyes suddenly, not understanding why they'd come. At the time I thought it was because he was the only fellow freak that would stand me.

"You bastard." I hissed, sighing, staring at his perfectly still face.

What would I do now? Tell the cops? Tell his men? Where would I go? I couldn't just go on living like this hadn't happened. They'd lock me up, do all sorts of weird tests--

"GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" He sat up out of nowhere, screaming in my face. It startled me so much that I did the same right back. Partly out of shock, partly out of anger. He laughed his high pitched laugh and I laughed with him this time, relieved. He coughed then, his laugh drying out. I got up and headed over to the water, knowing the feeling.

"Why? You didn't have to." He sat up suddenly, groaning. He was quite agile. Strangely, I was attracted to it. I pushed the feeling away quickly.

"Because." I threw the water bottle at him, aiming for his head and missing. He grabbed it up clumsily and drank a sip, standing up.

"So, uh, you been talking to your boss?"

Which one? I thought. But I knew what he meant.

"Yes..." I responded.

"And, what's he doing?"

"I don't know," I cringed as anger quickly flashed in his stare. I didn't want him close to my face anymore. It made me feel strange.

Think. Think. Ah! I suddenly remembered the message Rachel had left me on my cell that afternoon during lunch.

"He's going out to this ballet thing Saturday night."

"With his little girlfriend?"

I scowled, insulted at how he belittled her, "Yes. But she wants me to come along with a date."

"Then get one." He growled, rolling his chair violently back to his desk.

Shit. How would I explain this? I sighed.

"But... I sort of told her it was this one guy.. so it can't be just anyone."

"Who? Get him." He was now scrawling on his desk with a pen illegibly.

"But I don't know anyone. I made up the name."

"I don't know anyone," he mocked in a high, innocent voice, throwing up his hands, "what's the invisible guy's name. I'll find someone. Hell, I'll dress up a goon for ya, just say the name."

He was desperate. Impatient. I took another deep breath.

(why are you so scared may)

"J-Jack."

I didn't know why saying the name was so frightening. I didn't even know his name. Nobody did. I'd just blurted out whatever had come into my mind at the time.

He blinked, twitching. He licked his lips twice. He put his fingers to his temples and rubbed his head, as if trying to get bad thoughts out.

"Get out." He whispered, "Now."

"I'm sorry." I said, shaking my head.

"GET OUT!!" he roared. I flinched and exited before he could pull his knife out of his pocket.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I didn't know what nerve I'd hit that night, but it was a short one. I didn't know what I'd tell Rachel. Too many lies, and she'd get suspicious. She'd start wondering where I was going or doing late at night, why I wasn't there to talk to her, why I wasn't there to water my plants...

"My plants!" I blinked and rushed out the alleyway, brushing away the black hooded figure that was about to ask me for my purse.