Okay, here goes my first ever fanfic. Let me know if you guys think I should keep going or trash it.
I woke up in the dark room Jack and I shared. The walls were painted a dark, deep purple, just the way he liked it. There was a gothic canopy bed against the center of the back wall and a small door to the left of the bed led to a bathroom. While it may sound like a normal room, this room belonged to the Joker, and was anything but comfy and cozy.
Knives lay on the bedside tables. The closet was full of disguises and the Joker's odd and eerie apparel. The shelves in the bathroom were stocked with war paint instead of my feminine make-up. But, however unpleasant this may seem to you, this was my life, as it had been for five months. Five horrible, terrifying, yet wonderful months. Okay, so things didn't start out so smooth, but they ended up in a good place. So I couldn't leave the hideout…ever. Or talk to anyone other than the Joker's goons. But I got to be with him and that's all that mattered.
I rolled over to find myself alone in the bed under the forest green covers. I was used to this. Jack (or "The Joker" as he liked to be called) was extremely moody the last few weeks. He would come home angry and vicious and beat his henchmen for no reason at all. While this frightened me, Jack had promised me he would never hurt me. He loved me.
I got out of bed and dressed in black skinny jeans and a red, low-cut, t-shirt. I went downstairs to eat breakfast like I would any other day. Except this wasn't any other day. This was the day we came to the long road downhill that lasted years into my life. It was only a small event, but it would change my life, as well as everyone that I became to in the future.
I entered the kitchen only to stop dead in my tracks, horrified. Jack had a girl pinned to the kitchen table. He had one hand around her throat and the other held a giant steak knife. He was repeatedly stabbing the girl with strength I didn't know was possible to obtain. The table wasn't visible under the blood that covered it and dripped off the side. I didn't speak, but rather just stood and watched the man I loved butcher an innocent girl. He looked up and saw me.
"Marissa, go back to our room," Jack said to me in a growl.
"Jack, wha-," I started to say before he cut me off.
"Marissa, NOW!" he screamed, as he slammed his fists down on the table, making the whole room seem to shake.
I turned and ran back to the bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I knew that Jack was a killer and I hated it, but I couldn't help the fact that I loved him. He had been Prince Charming the last few months. Well, a strange sort of Prince Charming, but I liked that. But I had just seen him mutilate a girl of twelve years of age, at most. He couldn't have gained anything from that. I leaned against one of the posts on the bed, took my face in my hands and tried to make it all go away.