My breath caught as I walked up those flights of stairs. I'm so out of shape. My thick thighs and not so thin body, felt sore after walking about three flights of stairs. True, even a fit girl who could run a mile in 5 minutes, just might be out of breath too. However, I would be considered pathetic because of my weight and build. I knew I was fat, they didn't need me to tell me.
When I reached the fourth floor, I let out a huff of air and leaned down, my arms against my knees, as I tried to catch my breath. I really was pathetic.
I looked up at the metal door, taking in any new graffiti there might of been, besides the normal gang signs. There was only one new one and it was written in sharpie, rather than spray paint.
"Batman Will Die"
I snorted out my laugh, "yeah right," I whispered softly to myself. I gained my breath again, my hand outstretched to grab the cold metal handle. The door was heavy, like it always was, and I pulled it open with little strength. I walked through the door way, it revealing a long, barely visible, hallway. The air smelled like cat piss and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Mrs. McKinney must've let her cat out again.
I sighed and walked down the hall to the very end of it. I look at the door that led to my home and almost mentally hit myself when I saw the door ajar. It wasn't surprising that the door to my black mold, drug and alcohol infested home would be left open. It's not like we had anything that they wanted or needed. It was just a druggie home. I push open the door, the room only lit up by the fuzzy tv. I hated the buzzing sound it filled up my ears with. I slowly walk over to turn it off but stop when I see a figure laying on the floor. My breath caught but I didn't have the time to feel panic when the figure rolled over onto her back and let out a content groan.
Mom.
Her dark blonde curls, which had been much fuller and healthier, stuck to her face from how much she was sweating, even though, it was only 70 degrees in our house. It always was. I stared at her for a while before heading towards my closet to turn on my light. Did I say closet? Oh, I meant bedroom. I turned on the light and looked at where I only spent my nights in. It had a small blanket, some folded clothes, clothes I had stolen weeks ago and a few dirty shoes. Oh, and how could I forget my backpack full of pencils, knives, a gun, papers, and notebooks. It wasn't much but I was used to worse, the same shirt every day. My eyes went to my mother again, but wander to the coffee table in front of the buzzing tv. A crack pipe laid there as well as a bong, a baggie that had white stuff in it and a few Xanax. Crack, coke, weed, and Xanax?
Wow, mom. You're the real mvp.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at her. "You are never a day sober anymore," I told her, knowing she couldn't hear me. "Did you forget you still have to take care of me? Aren't I as important as the drugs? Answer me, mom!" And even knowing she can't hear me, I still scream at her. Tears free fall and I walk over to the coffee table and grab the crack pipe in my hands. I shook and looked at my mother with anger. I raise my hand up and smash the crack pipe on the table, my fingers still wrapped around it. Glass shards embed themselves into my hand and I wince slightly, blood already starting to drip past my fingers.
I am so done with the drugs. I'm so done with her.
My next choices shouldn't have been made out of anger though, I wish I would've known that sooner. It was only later that night that my life would change forever.
It was the idea to leave that started it.
I grabbed my back pack, putting my blanket in it and the few clothes I had. I searched our apartment for the money I knew she had. Heading for the kitchen, I felt on top of the fridge and found an odd looking dark glass bottle and I dropped it on the floor and watched it smash open. Many one hundred dollar bills laid there. I frowned and picked it up, counting the money. She had over $1,000 hiding in there. I was astonished. My breath caught and I looked at her, "This whole time we could've had food. This whole time I could've gotten a real bed. You got all this money plus the money that grandpa gave us and you are really spending it on drugs?!" I knew she couldn't hear me, but I needed to say it, whether she was conscious or not. Sober or not.
"You know what I'm gonna do?" I whispered. No answer. "I'm gonna go buy clothes and then go and be just like you." I left my home or rather the dump I had been forced to live with, the door being left wide open because in that moment, I couldn't careless about my mom. Going back down those stairs really killed me though. My thighs were sore. I didn't regret leaving, I wasn't going to turn back. I took the bus to the downtown Gotham. The bus ride was quiet, besides the crazy old man that was laughing and talking to himself, which made me smile. It wasn't his fault that he was like that, it could've been a number of things, I just hoped he was happy with himself.
They played a song on the bus, it was a song I hadn't been familiar with it but I listened to it's words and felt a warm feeling in my chest.
'Are you insane like me?
Been in pain like me?
Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me?
Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?
Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?
Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?
Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?
Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?
Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?'
I almost related to this song, the only thing was that, I didn't have a pretty face. I had green eyes, dark blonde hair, a small nose and a circle face. There was nothing really pretty about me. My mom told me so.
Mom.
I growled in anger and shot up to my feet when the bus came to a random stop. I was quick to get off. I wanted to spend my moms money quick and easy. I went to the salon, since it would be open till 7, it only being 4:34 PM. I asked her to curl my hair, fix my nails, wax my body, and make me look absolutely stunning. She was reluctant at first, looking me up and down, but I told her I had more than enough money. It took her a while to do all I asked. I asked her a question as she did my makeup, the last thing she had to do. "Am I fat to you?"
She looked at me, surprised that I asked. "No. Any boy-- or girl, would love to have a girl with your build."
I frowned, looking down and she stopped to look at me, "How do you know?" I ask.
The lady gave me a smile, "You're a curvy girl, men like girls who have curves."
"How come no guys have ever complimented me or asked me out on a date if that's true?"
"Because those are boys, you haven't met a real man yet." She handed me the mirror and said, "Look. All done."
I was stunned by what I saw. She gave me a smokey eye look and made my eyebrows perfectly shaped. The lady had put red lip stick on me and contoured my face perfectly.
Damn, I wish I knew how to apply make up.
That was a thing my mother lacked to do. She didn't show me how to know what fit me and what didn't, how to put make up on, not even how to shave my legs. Hence making the lady wax me, which by the way, hurt.
I smiled at the lady and thanked her.
---
The next place I went was a nice clothing shop, I looked for dresses, ones that would hug my body and compliment me. I found a few sweater dresses, along with a dress that was dark blue and hugged my hips, it had a very low cut front and showed off my busty chest, very thin material but soft nevertheless. I smiled in the full length mirror.
One of the girls who were trying on dresses too, looked at me a smiled wide. "Hey, I'm Kenzie!"
I smiled back at her shyly, "I'm Mason." She was really pretty, a slim figure with short pixie hair. It was a red auburn color. She had on a short cocktail dress, black.
Kenzie gave me a nod and walked smoothly over to me from where she stood. "You look like you're going to a club."
I shook my head, "I'm not 21." I was 17 years old, 18 in 4 months.
"Well if you wanted to, I could get you into one." She smirked. Hmm.
I thought about it for a moment. What did I have to lose? I should treat myself to some dancing, some fun, something that would cheer me up and make me forget about my mother. Should I though? What if something bad happens?
I shake off the bad thoughts and gave her a grin, "Really?"
She nodded, "Yes it would be so much fun! Guys would literally be all over you!"
Before even thinking, I said, "Okay let's do it."
That's where I made my mistake.
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Hey guys! So, I'm gonna be starting this one too as well, super excited to try it, I love the joker, one of my favorite people.
So this takes place before he goes to Arkham and meets Harley, and yes she'll be involved. Joker won't be in love with Harley, it'll be just like the comic books, where he uses her and manipulates Harley. With Mason, it's almost the same but he does love her and she will be his.
Her faceclaim is Jennifer Lawrence but with a much thicker body.
The Joker will be Jared Leto
Harley Quinn will be Margot Robbie
Might add Poison Ivy so Harley isn't completely alone. Now this story will be mature because well that makes it so much better.