The Joker's coat billowed around him, a purple snake weaving through the wind. A thin rope attached to his leg was the only thing separating him from the ground. The Joker laughed manically, watching the SWAT team race up the stairs. He closed his eyes and spread his arms…

And the rope snapped.

It was a sombre day. Pain pattered down the windows of the church, leaving trails of water on the stained glass. The sky was a deep shade of grey, and the air seemed to crackle with electricity as thunder sounded in the distance. A small group of people dressed in black crowded around a headstone.

Rowan stared quietly at his mother's grave, a range of emotions flashing across his face. His cheeks were red and puffy. His eyes watered. At the head of the congregation, he had a clear view of the final resting place of his mum. The freshly turned earth was already soaked, and a small, muddy puddle had formed. Fresh bouquets of colourful flowers leaned against the gravestone, clumps of red and pink against a world of grey.

Rowan felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to find his dad, Kane, staring down at him. "It's time to go," he whispered, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "We can visit Katherine's grave some other time."

Rowan sighed, tears rolling down his cheeks. He let his dad steer him towards the car, a dark green Polo. Once the doors were closed, Kane's face hardened. "If you tell anyone what really happened…" he growled.

Rowan wiped his nose and nodded. He knew what Kane meant. "I promise, I won't."

"Good."

Rowan shut his eyes, pretending to sleep as his dad drove home. Images flashed across his mind. He saw Kane, his eyes blazing with fury as he shouted obscenities at Rowan's mum. He saw Katherine shouting back, her face radiating anger, her hands curled up into fists. He saw Kane push Rowan's mum down the stairs. Her head thumped against the steps and she lay still, her forehead oozing blood.

Once home, Rowan ran into the kitchen, grabbing a knife before fleeing towards the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and looked at his reflection in the mirror, twirling the knife between his fingers. A raging alcoholic, Kane had been abusing Rowan for as long as he could remember. And now his mum was dead, nobody was holding him back anymore. He placed the knife inside his mouth and pushed it towards his left cheek. He bit back a scream as the blade sunk into his flesh. Tugging the knife upwards, he finished one side of his makeshift smile and started on the other half. When he was finished, he stepped closer to the mirror and examined his handiwork. A jagged red wound distorted his features, stretching from just below his cheekbones to the corners of his mouth.

Rowan heard a slamming sound and turned towards the bathroom door, still clutching his knife. Blood dripped down his face and splashed onto the floor as he considered what he would do next. Kane had obviously just gone to bed. He would be lying beneath the covers now, happily reading a book, and would be asleep within half an hour.

A smile crept onto Rowan's face. He could wait that long.

It took three days for the police to find Kane's body. One of his employees had called the police station, wondering what had happened to his boss. The police broke into the house later that day to find Kane's mutilated corpse hanging from a rope. His entire body was covered in stabmarks, and the murderer had slashed a smile into Kane's cheeks. But that wasn't the disturbing part. Written in smudged letters on the wall behind the body were the words that Rowan would become famous for.

"Why so serious?"