Cruel (A Joker Story) [UNDER REVISION]

18: The House

I found a four-bedroom, six-bathroom house on the outskirts of Gotham City made of assorted, brown and tan brick, dark brown doors and eggshell-colored windows.

The garage had two doors on the right side of the home, the front door next to it but a few feet back to create a makeshift roof to protect from the rain. The left, front side of the cozy house, next to the door, was rounded, windows following the shape, revealing a spacious, happy living room with cream-colored walls and with wooden floors, complimenting the tan, leather couches by large, plentiful bookshelves and a large television set.

A door led to the large garage, and by the door, a staircase leading upstairs.

The kitchen was a separate room behind the living room. The walls of the kitchen were brown rock, floors wooden like the living room. The kitchen had two stoves, two ovens, an island with stools on one side and cabinets and drawers on the others, along with a large, six-seater table at the center.

There was one bathroom at the back of the first floor, right next to the kitchen, and next to the bathroom, the laundry room between the bathroom and the staircase.

The top floor had four bedrooms, each with a bathroom and one at the end of the hall. Each bedroom had enough space for a king-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and a bathroom with a tub, a shower, a toilet, and a spacious bathroom counter accompanied by a huge mirror.

The backyard had a large pool, along with a large space for gardening, where plants started to flourish.

Joker suggested we hire a gardener, pool boy and maid to make the house look cared for, lived in, nice. He even suggested we put a few cars in the garage, lazily giving me clearance to buy a car, too. He was giving me the means to buy my dream house, a tantalizing ordeal. I wanted this house, and it was just being used as a plaything.

He knew I wanted it, I could feel it, he just wanted to use it as a teaser, waving it in front of my face to see if I'll budge and leave as Lucy, or stay as Morphine, but he knew the answer, and I knew, too.

This was the type of life I had wanted before, one I couldn't keep, because it wasn't me. I wasn't the old Lucy anymore.

I decided if he were to be a rich man, he'd have an expensive car. I asked him what car he wanted, he just waved me off again and lazily muttered, "Ferarri, I don't know" while coloring something.

I ended up getting him a green Ferarri 488 GTB, and got myself a black 2017 Toyota 86. I parked both of them in the driveway and called him up.

"Hello?" I heard a gruff, high, breathless voice answer.

"Got everything all set up and prepped for Charlotte," I responded. "Why don't you come down here and we can get things started? She'll be here tomorrow, we have to act like we live here."

I heard a snicker on the other line before he abruptly hung up on me. I sighed and leaned against my car.

"Heya, neighbor!" I heard a squeaky voice greet, and turned to see a short woman waving at me with a large grin plastered on her face. She was standing next to her car, a pearly white BMW. Her red hair was falling out of its messy bun and she looked like she had a very rough night, yet acted as if there was nothing wrong. It was odd. "My name is Shauna, nice to meet you! We've been waiting to meet the new neighbors. Too bad my husband is at work right now. Where's yours?" she questioned, she was a bit too upbeat for my taste.

"I, er—". . . Husband? "I'm uh, actually, I'm the butler and assistant to the man who owns this house," I spoke sheepishly.

"Oh," she spoke, sucking her cheeks in before letting out a large breath. "I see. Well, still, nice meeting you!" she giggled. "Oh, right! What's your name?" she asked.

"Emma," I blurted out. "Emma. Nice to meet you, too."

"Beautiful name," she spoke before getting into her car and waving goodbye as she backed out of her driveway and drove off.

I was playing with my hand now, waiting for Joker to finally show up, but he was taking forever at this point. I sighed and placed my hand on my head, realizing how uncomfortable the neighbors made me, and they only barely greeted me.

I ran my fingers through my hair. So this was what it was like to have a taste of normalcy.