Straying out of Sanity

With my luck I made too much waffle batter and ended up having enough for about three or four more chocolate strawberry waffles, since I only wanted one, Mitch wanted four and Jay only wanted two like my little sister. But then again these weren't like your typical frozen waffles; these were quite big all around and topped with whipped cream and the sliced strawberries I didn't use in the batter.

We four were seated in a row on one side of the middle island counter that had three stools on each end (Jay was in his wheel chair). Jay was first to finish, right before my sister, when he decided he wanted to take a bath. Mitch stopped in the middle of feeding himself some waffle and whipped cream and turned to glare at Jay.

"I'm not fuckin' helping with that," he told him then turned to me.

Before he said anything I smiled sweetly and said, "I have to clean up the kitchen and do the dishes so I guess you'll have to." He, in return, glared at me. I did my best to hold back a laugh and took another bite out of my half eaten waffle.

"Ready whenever you are butt buddy," Jay smiled, after making sure he was well out of arm's distance from Mitch.

"Say that one more time and I will break your ribs!" Mitch shouted, finishing his breakfast as well.

Suddenly the door to the kitchen opened, unveiling none other than The Joker himself, and everyone was quiet. His eyes fell instantly on me and he kept eye contact as long as he could before I looked back down at my plate.

Suddenly my little sister smiled brightly up at him and said, "Good morning." I looked back up quickly to see him staring at my sister now. And I hated it.

"...Morning..." he said, hesitating, in a deep creepy voice that sounded like he just woke up. I wouldn't be suppressed if he smoked. He looked back over to me and I was relieved that he didn't keep staring at her. At least he wasn't a pedophile.

I stood up then, collecting Jay, Laurel, and Mitch's plates and forks and walked over to the sink to set them with all the other things I used to cook besides the bowl with the batter and the waffle maker.

"Laurel," I said wanting her out of the kitchen and away from The Joker, "go with Mitch and Jay so you can take a bath before Jay so I can eat and do the dishes before I help him."

"Thank you!" Mitch said happily.

"Why?" my little sister whined.

"Because you haven't taken a real bath in days. Now go."

"Fine," she huffed and stood up. She followed Mitch out of the kitchen, who was wheeling Jay out. He looked back at me, looking hesitant about leaving me alone with The Joker. I discreetly rolled my eyes at him and turned to The Joker, who had sat across from where I was sitting at the counter.

"Want some chocolate strawberry waffles?" I asked him and put a fake smile on my face.
He looked up from his lap to make eye contact again and I realized he looked quite tired, though his face was freshly painted and his greasy green hair was slightly tamer than yesterday. He didn't say anything to me. He just stared and I slowly started feeling self conscious and wishing I had put on makeup this morning when I got dressed.

"You look fine without makeup," he muttered and looked back down at his hands in his lap.
I felt myself blush and wanted to kick myself for doing so. To busy myself and rid the thoughts circling around my head I decided to just go ahead and use whatever waffle batter I had left to make him breakfast.

I felt my stomach start to ache and I looked over at my plate of half eaten waffle but figured it would be rude to eat in front of him without his food being done so I patiently waited for the waffles to be done.

I was able to make three waffles out of the batter and finally when the third was done I turned to him, happy I could eat again, and asked, "Do you want whipped cream and strawberries on top?"

He looked up at me again from his lap but remained silent.

I sighed, surprisingly a bit agitated from his silence, and grabbed the bowl of sliced strawberries and the can of whipped cream along with his plate of waffles and set the three down in front of him. I sat down and began eating my waffle again, feeling my stomach ache subdue.

I looked over at him as I saw him take the can of whipped cream and literally cover his waffles so it looked like there was just a pile of whipped cream on his plate. He then dumped out the rest of the strawberries left in the bowl before proceeded to shovel the contents of his plate into his mouth as if he had been starved.

I had paused and raised my eyebrow at him questioningly as soon as I did he looked up at me and paused too.

He stared down at his plate then corrected his posture and removed his elbows from the counter before continuing to eat his... mass of chocolate waffles, whipped cream and strawberries... in a more civilized manner, if possible.

He then made me feel self-conscious about the way I was eating so I sat up straight and cut my waffle into smaller bites so they'd fit better into my mouth.

Since my waffle was already half gone I finished my breakfast before him. I stood to put my plate with the other dishes. I set it down on top of Jay, Laurel and Mitch's plate. I then turned around to sit back down at my stool and ended up having a heart attack because The Joker was standing right behind me with his empty plate.

I jumped back, hitting the counter behind me, and covered my mouth to silence my scream as I closed my eyes allowing my heart to take its time falling back down into my chest from my throat. I heard The Joker's shrill laughter, obviously enjoining my little panic attack.

I opened my eyes back up to watch the last second or two of his laughter before he made eye contact with me. "A little jumpy, eh?" he asked smiling, the remains of his laughter.

Well maybe that's because I'm a guest in a homicidal psychopath's house that most likely doesn't belong to him, I thought, looking away from him.

I heard him set his plate down and suddenly his left hand was around my throat, not tightly but enough to make my panic attack return. I then felt his hot breath on my ear and I closed my eyes again telling myself that I needed to calm down. He isn't as bad as dad. No one is. No one ever will be.

"Watch what you think around me," he warned in a sickening whisper and I heard, and felt, him lick his lips, "I can read you like a picture book." I swallowed hard as he let go of my throat and moved back to look into my eyes for a second then turned on the sink faucet, filling the sink with warm water and soap to make bubbles.

"Why do you do that for me?" I hesitantly asked him about the dishes.

"Because you suck at it and this is my house," he said then looked over at me, again licking his lips, "now." He turned back to the sudsy water in the sink and rolled his lavender hexagon dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

I looked away and grabbed a towel from off the nearby oven handle before leaving his side to sit on the counter at the other end of the sink, waiting to dry stuff for him. He quickly glanced over at me as I did so before turning back to the dishes. "Why do you do this for me?" he asked, mockingly, scrubbing furiously at the dishes I created.

"Because..." I said quietly and stared at the rag in my lap.

He stopped again and said, "Go on," while staring at the soapy dish water.

"I cooked and made all these dishes and then you go and wash all of them for me and I feel useless when you wash them and I don't do anything so I-"

The Joker suddenly interrupted my very long explanation of why I dried the dishes for him with a loud, incomprehensible sound followed by an "Alright," when I was quiet.

I looked back down at the towel in my hands and remained silent for the next thirty minutes as I dried the dishes. I tried to help put them away but he wouldn't let me touch the dishes after I dried them so I sat back on the counter. Once he had finished he left me in the kitchen, without and recognition of leaving me in there.

I stared at the door for a few seconds, wondering what I was supposed to do. I waited for about a minute before deciding to just leave.