I woke up startled, to the loud sound of a fist beating against my front door. For a moment I dared myself to think it was John. But that was just me being ignorant.
I very loudly sighed and rolled out of bed to go see who was at the door. The knocking didn't stop.
"All right! All right! Who's there??!"
The knocking quickly siezed.
A deep voice, that of a man, cleared his throat.
"Alisa? It... it's Gordan. Can I come in?"
"I um, I'm not....," I looked down and saw that I was still wearing my suit,"No Gordan, I don't want to see anyone right now. Not after....." I trailed off, not knowing what exactly to say.
"I uh, I understand Alisa. I just thought you should know that John's funeral is tomorrow at 4:00 p.m. at the city morgue. I just think it would be best if you came. Prepared a speech. You were closer to him than anyone else."
I didn't speak, or reply back. I heard Gordan give a long deep, sad sigh.
"Look, will you... will you just think about it? Please?"
I stayed quiet, trying to keep the tears back and I heard Gordan give another sigh. And then he was gone, his footsteps descending down the steps. Echoing off the walls.
I turned around and faced my living room, leaning my head against the wall. And I whispered to my self. If I was myself? It was as if someone else had taken over my body. Alisa's body.
She was trapped inside, being held captive in her own little fucked up world. And now surfacing on the outside was...... The Masquerade.
She was the daring one, the brave one, she would never be afraid of anything. I think all along, she was there. No, she would never have let Alisa get kidnapped, or feel sad.
"Ugh, well we're stuck with eachother so we're just gonna have to get along. I'm only here to help." Suddenly I felt guilty, for the real Alisa would have never done what I, the Masquerade have done.
But, I did it for Alisa, and that made it ok. I quietly walked back into my bedroom and changed. I had just now realized this, but I would eventually have to "dissapear".
As soon as the press found out what the Maquerade looked like? Why? They would obviously know it was me. Because I don't know many young females who have long, glowing white hair.
I would have to go into hiding. Secretly crawling around the streets at night. We stop looking for monsters under our beds when we realize that they have infact, been inside of us all along.
I took the knives out of my suit and held them in my hand. I took one of the knives and slowly made a three small cuts, deep enough to scar, on the bottom of my left arm.
My victims mustn't be left unforgtton. I made the first cut the deepest cut. For Alissa. Thai was all for Alisa. And soon I would let her be free again.
Tomorrow she shall break free of the chains I've set upon her, and she will cry, and she will be sad, miserable maybe, even. But she'll see it was all for her. She will see.
For the rest of the day I stared in my room, not eating, not sleeping, not thinking. All I could do was throw my knives at the bathroom door.
Each time trying to hit the very center, although I'd only done it 2 out of ten times. Guess that what practice is for.........
Boom...... mind blown. Kidding lol, hope you guys enjoy, sorry for not writing much lately. Got to keep up with school and friends too... and family, can't forget family.
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Why So Serious? (Heath Ledger)Fanfiction
Suddenly a hand grabbed me and I was pinned against the door. His scars so close.... so visible. "What's wrong? you look nervous? Is it the scars?" He pointed to his mouth, "......Wanna know how I gottem?"