This story is not meant to change your religious beliefs, this is how I feel about religion (because my life was pretty crappy too) and am fine with religion as long as you follow the 'rules' of your religion and don't force it upon me. This is not meant to offend anyone in anyway, and I'm sorry if it does. I would also like to add that the 'mirror mirror, on the wall in' this chapter (the phrases that break the story up) are not mine. I have written one for this story, but it will come in later.

Warning, I'm a potty mouth.

I sighed, applying make-up to cover my thin scars. No matter how much I put on, it would not hide the squished, crookedness of my nose. I finished up the foundation and moved on to the eye make-up, putting dark colors to express my medium blue eyes more to help redeem my un-symmetrical face.

The facial scaring and deformity was from one of my old foster families. I've been in foster care for as long as I can remember, but this family was the worst. The husband was pimping out his wife, and me. While his wife was selling like hot-cakes, I stood on that corner, a scared little nine year old, and waited for someone to pick me up, John(my foster father at that time) standing in the alley behind me, to make sure I got money and returned to him.

Most nights, I wouldn't sell, and he make me look in the mirror of the hotel we were staying at currently, and ask me why I wasn't selling.

"Why aren't you getting any buyers?" he asked, the first night he had begun to put me on corners.

I shook my head, backing up into the wall crying for mercy.

"I-I-I d-d-do-don't n know", I cried, trying to scrub the wetness from my cheek with my chubby hands.

He grabbed me by my medium length dark brown hair and dragged me to the bathroom of the hotel. Using my hair to lift me up onto the counter, he let go of my hair only to grab a hold of the base of my skull and force me too look into the mirror.

"Why aren't you selling huh? Tell me why!" He shouted, shaking me up even more and making me stare at my dismal reflection.

I shook my head as much as he would allow, not being able to speak through my heavy, mucus-y sobs.

He smashed my face into the mirror making it crack while shouting at me.

"IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE UGLY!"

And again, my face was pushed roughly into the mirror, breaking my nose and squishing it to the side. He did it again, this time, the glass shattered and cut my face horribly, leaving thin but deep gouges on my face.

I shook the memory away, falling out of the bathroom and right into my foster sister.

She had a symmetrical oval shaped face, with pout-y lips, defined cheekbones, long, thin nose and freckles outlining her eyes in a mysterious way.

"Hey Vel, how'd you sleep?" she asked, warm brown eyes revealing her cat-like nature.

"Just fine Kat, we're going to youth group on Tuesday right?" I asked, mentioning her parents' rules of living in their house.

They were devout Christians, Katarina's parents I mean. They believed their daughter was a Christian, and that by living with them, I would denounce my Atheist ways. Well, their daughter was as Atheist as I, and religion definitely wasn't my forte, especially when it was being forced on me.

"Katarina, Velma, it's time to go to school!" Janice, Katarina's biological mother shouted up the stairs.

"Kay mom, be down in a minute!" Kat replied, rolling her eyes at me before grabbing her make-up bag from the bathroom.

We went down the stairs together and collected our backpacks from Janice, receiving hugs from her as well. We clambered into the old, 1994 Buick LeSabre along with Joseph, Kat's father, and began the drive to school.

Mirror Mirror on the wall,

"So", the blonde paused to laugh, glancing back at her friends before returning her 'holier-than-thou' look to us- Kat and me. "Where are you from?"

I rolled my eyes, putting down my fancy sub to glare at the blonde in front of me.

"I was found in California, so I'm assuming that's where I'm from", I basically snarled, before going to pick up my food again.

"So, why are you, like, here?" She pressed, stopping me from eating.

"I'm, like, here because, like, oh my god, like, my parents are dead, and like, foster parents are like, da bomb", I said; over exaggerating the 'bimbo' talk of the century. "Now like, I like, oh my god, like eating so, like, go suck cock."

She scoffed, and then scowled before turning and stomping away, her legs jiggling in plain view because of the booty-shorts she wore.

"Way to go bi-otch!" Kat exclaimed, giving me the motion for high-five.

I smiled, giving her a high-five and shrugging.

"All it took was cool intellect, and valley-girl lessons from a toddler", I said, brushing my finger nails on my chest in a haughty fashion.

We both giggled before returning to our separate lunches.

We were close enough to hang out without the awkward silences, but we weren't that close.

Who is the fairest of them all?

"And Jesus is our savior", I answered the Christian questionnaire her parents held every night.

"Very good Velma!" Janice cooed, giving me the remote. "Now you can watch an hour of TV."

That was the reward, an hour of TV for two hours of correct Christian-y goodness. Katarina had the TV before I did and was in her room doing homework so I turned it to the news channel.

"Horrid news today folks", the anchor man started, shuffling his papers. "The criminal known only as The Joker has escaped Arkham Asylum. I hand this story off to Anne who is live on the scene."

The scene switched to a woman in a beige coat standing in front police tape.

"Thank you Rob. And Here I am at Arkham Asylum, where the notorious criminal The Joker was being held for his heinous crimes. Over here is one of the nurses who gave him food and medicine, and took him to and from his sessions."

The woman walked over to another one, tapping her on the shoulder as a guard walked away.

"Excuse me, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, do you think I could get a short from you about The Joker?"

"Oh yes, no problem", the perky blonde replied, flashing the camera a big smile before directing her attention to the woman beside her.

"How long have you been the nurse to The Joker?"

"Just about three months now. I had him before he escaped the first time as well."

"Has he ever tried to get you to join him and his crazy ideals?"

The woman paused for a split second too long before replying.

"No, he has not. He has called me boring and poked fun, but never has he tried to recruit me."

"What has he called you?"

"Many things inappropriate for viewers at home. Now if you excuse me, I have to get home to feed Bud and Lou."

I rolled my eyes at the blatant lie and changed the channel, I didn't know who the Joker was, but he could fudge it up the ass for all I care.

Is it she who conjures peals of laughter,

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the deafening roar of lunch time and slip into my own world. But it was just too loud to concentrate on one thing so I gave up, opening my folder to do my history homework.

I was almost finished when I heard someone clearing their throat. I just ignored them and continued to write my history essay. The throat was cleared again, louder this time. I put the last period down before peering up through my lashes angrily. It was a boy with blonde hair stuffed underneath a beanie and baggy shorts around his thighs.

"So, I heard that you've been treating my girlfriend kinda bitchy like", he started, crossing his arms, trying to appear tough.

"Well yes, being an anti-social bitch tends to do that", I bit back, waiting for his next claim.

"Whoa, put your ka-hones away herm-y. Just wanted to tell you to watch your filthy mouth", he ground out before storming away.

I rolled my eyes as the bell rang. Was that the best he could come up with? Geez, the losers in California had more wit then this 'superior' town.

But on the inside weeps silver tears?

"Okay guys, it's time for worship!" The youth leader jumped off the stage as the churches boy band began to sing about killing lambs and people covering themselves in the blood of the holy one.

I sat in the back so I wouldn't throw up all over the stage, the bass was so loud it shook your core and made you… well, puke.

I glanced at Kat, who was writing away furiously in her journal, probably writing up another of her fan-fictions that she loves so much. She glanced up at me before returning to her writing. I rolled my eyes and stood to leave the Jesus-fest before the bass got to me.

The councilors knew that I had problems with the bass and allowed me to leave the dark room. I took a deep breath of un-crowded-air, striding through the small gathering room and outside to breathe the polluted air of Gotham City.

I turned my eyes to the street, watching cars go by every now and then. I jumped when I heard sirens and stepped forward to the curb to look in the direction they came from. I had to jump back to prevent myself from getting hit by a man hanging out of the window like a dog, allowing the air flow over his painted face and green tinted hair.

I turned to watch the white van speed away, only to gasp when I caught the eyes of the man who was still hanging out of the window. I turned and returned to 'worship' as fast as I could, apologizing to the councilors as the last song ended and the lights turned back on.

I slumped back into my seat next to Kat, watching the man go on about what was going happen next week during Youth Group. But my mind wasn't focused on him, but the shockingly dark eyes of the Painted Man.

Mirror Mirror on the wall,

I sighed and picked at the rest of the food on my plate. Pushing the peas around and making poo shaped mashed potatoes.

"Velma, stop playing with your food and eat it. There are starving kids in Uganda, so count yourself lucky", Janice chided, pointing at me with her fork.

I was weird when it came to food. Sometimes I would eat like a pig, and get denied more, and others, I wouldn't want to eat at all. This just happened to be one of those times.

"Settle down mom", Kat saved me, giving me a quick smirk across the table. "She's just not that hungry today. You know how it is."

I smiled at Katarina as her mom and dad began talking about the latest kitchenware. And she smiled back, kicking me underneath the table lightly.

My smile deformed into a smirk and I kicked back at her, taking a bite of my cold potatoes.

Who is the fairest of them all?

I sighed and wrote down another batch of notes, ignoring the completely off-subject rant of the Substitute Biology teacher. Our real one had gotten herself knocked-up, by her husband, and got six weeks to take care of the screaming poop-machine. Leaving us with this douche bag who looked like a walrus, no joke, with the mustache and everything.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out inconspicuously, and read the text.

Hey, I'm going to a party after school. Cover for me?

Kat-Girl

I rolled my eyes before quickly texting the reply.

Sure. Remember to keep your drink with you at all times, don't smoke and use protection.

Hebo Estel

I slid my phone back into my pocket just as the teacher walked by. I rolled my eyes at his totally obvious check of what I was doing and readjusted my iPod headphone in my ear so I could hear the music better.

The sounds of Linkin Parks Points of Authority blew into my ear, and I closed my eyes, appreciating their musical genius.

I shook my thoughts from my head as the bell rang, signaling the end of school. I closed my folder and placed it in its spot in my messenger bag style Domo backpack. I closed the flap and grabbed the black strap, putting it on one shoulder and wishing that it wasn't broken as I left the classroom. The clasp that allows you to adjust the straps size had broken, and now the backpack flapped in the bend of my knee as I walked, making my walking awkward and slower than normal.

I was walking to the bus stop when my phone vibrated.

Haha. Have fun, pip pip cheerio. All that Jazz.

Kat-Girl

I smiled and replaced the phone, already having the lie ready in my head for her parents.

Is it he who talks so large,

"Okay honey, Joseph and I are going to Will and Becky's for a dinner party so you are going to be alone since Katarina is at a study group with her friends. I'm leaving some money so you can order pizza and buy a movie okay?" Janice gave me a sad smile, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Yea, I'll be fine. I've been left alone in a house before Janice", I said, expertly 'brushing' her hand off my shoulder as I went into the kitchen to grab the money and order pizza.

I heard her sigh before the front door closed, I grabbed the phone and ordered a p'zone and some breadsticks so they would deliver to the house. I decided to walk down to the video store and buy a movie that I had been dying to own for ages.

Sure I've seen it before, but owning it is so much better. So, I threw on a coat, my old, beat-up and written-on converse and headed to the movie store down the street quickly.

I found the movie quickly in the horror section and walked to the counter to pay.

"Oh, this is a good movie, have you seen it before?" The guy behind the counter asked as he scanned it.

"Hell yes, but owning it is so much better", I flirted, even though he wasn't the best guy I had seen, he was cute.

He nodded his head, a sly smile on his face.

"True, true. I'm not even going to ask for ID because this movie is so bomb", he said as I paid him the amount. "But I'll need something in return."

"I'll give you my phone number", I bartered, giving him that 'cute-sy' smile with fluttery eyes.

"Yea", he bit his lip, his eyes traveling down my sickly thin body as he handed me a pen and slip of paper. "That should do it."

I smiled and wrote down my cell-phone number and name with flourish. I smiled at him, taking the movie and giving him the slip and pen back.

"See ya later", I called over my shoulder as I left.

I sighed, he would probably try to hide my face as much as possible when we were hanging out. Oh well, take what you can get.

But the words carry no meaning?

I watched Lost Boys and stashed it in my room so Janice would not find the R rated movie and ground me.

I smiled to myself, laying back on my bed and staring at the dark ceiling as I tried to let sleep overcome me. I was, and still am, a terrible insomniac, and that mixed with being an early bird entirely sucks. Sometimes, it's so bad that while I sit there, dreaming up stories, trying to fall asleep, that the alarm clock goes off and I'm left wondering 'What the fuck just happened'?

This night though, I was lucky and fell asleep rather quickly, my dreams strange with seemingly empty meaning.

Mirror Mirror on the wall,

My dream self smiled into the dark at nothing, holding out her hands. She gripped the blackness and began to skip while an eerie voice began to sing as she and the blackness went round and round.

"Ring around the rosy. Pocket full of poesy. Ashes, ashes we all fall down."

And it continued to sing childhood songs in an eerie voice before my dream-self started to sing her own song.

"On top of old smokey, all covered in blood. I shot poor Barney, with a 47 slug. I went to his funeral. I went to his grave. Everyone one threw flowers. And I threw a grenade."

An evil cackle filled the dream, and to seemingly familiar eyes appeared before her, leering perversely.

Who is the fairest of them all?

I ignored the dream; it was common for me to have 'demented' dreams. I got ready for another day at school, grabbing all my necessities.

I stood in the hall to front door, staring at my reflection while I waited for Kat to finish getting ready.

I was ugly, and scared, and stupid, and unattractive, and unwanted. There was nothing special about me. No qualities to keep a boy ensnared. Even though my boobs were a low A cup, they looked large on me. It was awkward, and made me appear even ganglier.

I sighed, turning away from the evil glass before I punched it. I hated mirrors. I wish they had never existed.

Katarina came running down the stairs, apologizing through her huffs and puffs as we clambered into the Buick.

Is it she who plasters makeup on her face like a clown,

Lunch time again, this time I shared it with Kat and her boyfriend Desert. Yes, weird name, I know. They made out while I sat on the stair bellow them, feeling like a third wheel.

My eyes scanned the quad, looking at all the groups, laughing whorishly together.

Why are they so happy? Can't they see the horrendous end coming? All this laughter, just to die?

I guess I envy them. They can ignore everything, for just that moment, before it is all torn away. Before all they know is flushed down the proverbial toilet.

I wish I had the pleasure of enjoying my life, without the oppressing past I had to live through. I wish I could just take a giant eraser and start over.

But then I wouldn't be who I am now, so I'm just being a retard, thinking that I can flip a leaf and be normal.

I'll never be normal. And I know that, that's what matters.

Only to cover up the bruises and scars?

I opened the door to the house, yawning and stretching a little before beginning the trek towards my room.

"Welcome home girls!" Janice exclaimed happily, coming in from the kitchen and wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "How was your day?"

"Mine was fine mom, I've got a load of homework", Kay brushed her mother off, brushing past me and to the stairs to go to her room.

"What about you Velma?" She asked, her eyes wide in a creepy-but-not-really fashion.

"It was okay I guess. No one bugged me today", I replied, putting my backpack on the counter.

"I've been meaning to tell you", Janice started, looking down like she was ashamed. "Joseph and I thought it was appropriate to get you a psychologist, to help you really get over….. what happened."

She couldn't even say it. I knew she was just there to turn me Christian. She hates who I am and thinks I'm her clay to mold into the perfect little doll.

"Sure", I finally bit out, grabbing my backpack off the counter. "I'll be in my room doing my homework."

I walked away briskly and up the stairs.

Who did she think she was? She can't just go and get me shrink without my consent! Freaking whore…

Mirror Mirror on the wall,

I sighed, waiting in the lobby of Arkham for my name to be called.

Was this the only place in town that had shrinks in it? It was filled with criminals and crazies, what is our Mayor thinking?

"Velma Corel, Dr. Crane will see you now", the woman from behind the desk informed me as a middle aged man exited a door at her left.

I groaned and forced myself from the chair and trudged over to him. He was waiting, holding the door open for me.

"Thanks", I grumbled out, passing him.

"Your welcome, my office is just to your right here", he said, opening that door and letting me in again.

I rolled my eyes and plopped onto the couch in the room, watching him as he grabbed a clip-board and pen before sitting in a chair to the side of the couch.

"I am Doctor Jonathan Crane, but you can call me Jon", He started, smiled at me, the skin around his blue eyes crinkling.

"Call me Vel", I replied, sighing boredly. "Can we just get this over with?"

He seemed a little shocked before scribbling something down.

"Okay, do you know why your parents arranged an appointment?" He asked, staring at me with his calculating eyes.

I glared at him.

"They aren't my parents, and it's because they think I'm not over the physical, mental, and sexual abuse that happened to me six-seven years ago. And they also think that by 'getting over it fully' will help my Christian 'juices' flow more freely", I replied adding the sarcastic tones at the right time to show my obvious disgust of my foster parents.

He scribbled for a minute before returning his unfaltering gaze to me.

"Have you ever thought about a life of crime to release your resentment?"

"No, have you ever thought of another profession?"

He paused, his blue eyes shocked.

"Yes, but we're not here to discuss me, we're here to discuss you. Have you had any boyfriends?"

I stood up and approached him slowly, He watched me with questioning eyes.

"Let's get to the point", I growled out, standing at a large mirror hanging in his office. "Come here."

He stood, placing his clip-board and pen on the arm of his chair, approaching me slowly.

"Do you want to know the full story?" I asked, watching his actions through the mirror.

"Yes, will you be willing to tell me?"

"He would put on the corner next to his wife every night", I began, watching his face. "And his wife would sell, and I wouldn't. So he grabbed me, can I show you how?"

I was snarling and furious. If this man wanted to know what happened, he could feel some of it first hand.

It took him a while, but he finally nodded.

I grabbed the back of his head quickly, shoving his face towards the mirror.

"He says 'Why aren't you selling?' and pushes me closer to the mirror", I pushed him closer as well, re-enacting it. "He says 'It's because you're ugly!' and slams my face into the mirror, repeatedly."

I released his neck turning away from the disgusting decoration, hugging myself with thin arms. I glared at him out of the corner of my eye as he approached the chair, picking up the pen and scribbling down on his notepad again.

"I won't be so cooperative next time", I growled out after catching the time by a clock on the wall above his desk. I turned and stormed out of his office before he could reply.

Who is the fairest of them all?

Joseph and Janice weren't too happy with me after we got home. And sent me straight to my room, telling me I was grounded for a week. Whatever, we never really did anything in this house anyway; I'm not missing out on anything.

Right now though, I'm in school, it's a Friday.

"Ms. Corel, what is another name for angle 2?" My math teacher asked, looking at me from his white-board, his marker in hand.

"AFG", I droned after a quick glance at his drawing.

"Correct", he began to go off on more mathematical things while I zoned out.

I jumped when a note found itself on my desk. I glanced around the room quickly, no one seemed to notice. I turned to the note and opened it.

Stoopid hore, u think ur beter then us. I'll kik ur ass.

I almost laughed, I was the stupid one?

The bell rang and I put my things back into my broken bag standing to leave the class when I was pushed over. I turned over and glared at whoever pushed me.

Surprise, surprise, it was the boyfriend who called me a hermaphrodite.

"What the fuck do you want?" I snarled, not in the mood for his antics, I had a class to get to.

"You think you're so much better than us don't you, you whore?" He growled, kicking me down while I was picking up my things.

"What's the matter over here?" The teacher asked, stopping me from getting even more battered.

"Nothings wrong", the boy said with a fake sweet voice. "Right?"

"Oh yes", I said, with an underlying tone of sarcastic-ness. "I just tripped."

"Okay, just making sure", the teacher left after saying this.

"You'll get fucked up if you keep the attitude", he snarled before leaving me to my backpack.

I gathered everything up with a steely resolve and headed to my last class.

Is it he who is found in a dank locked cell,

I yawned, staring at the ceiling in my boring room. Friday night, nothing to do, not too unusual. It was around dinner time right now, and I was waiting for Janice to call up the stairs to come to dinner.

Right on time.

"Velma, wash your hands, it's time for dinner!" She shouted from down the stairs.

I hopped off my bed and went to the bathroom, washing my hands quickly before trudging down the stairs. I shoved my hands in my pockets before entering the dinning room, only to stop short.

"What are you doing here?" I sneered, taking my place at the table and glaring at him.

"Oh, Janice and Joseph invited me", Jonathan Crane replied, smiling at me.

I couldn't help but shiver, he was hiding something.

"Katarina dear, it's time for dinner!" Janice yelled up the stairs, breaking our staring contest.

I heard two thumps, then a minute later, a frazzled Kat ran into the room, taking her seat next to the shrink.

"Sorry, doing homework", Kat lied quickly, smoothing her wavy born hair a little bit and wiping at her mouth. She turned to Crane. "Who are you?"

"I'm Velma's therapist, Doctor Jonathan Crane, you can call me Jon", he said, sticking out his hand for her to shake.

"Call me Kat", she flirted easily, shaking his hand.

"Will do", he replied, before giving her a sly smile, "Kat."

I gagged, he was so old, and he was flirting with Kat, who was flirting with him. Stab me with a spork. Or, as my valley-girl impression would be 'Gag me with a spoon.'

Janice came out and set the table quickly while Joseph took his seat at the head of the table.

Dinner was mostly filled with Janice trying to get me to talk to Crane, and Crane trying to talk to Kat and me.

Only because he dared to speak out?

Friday was hell. Saturday was hell. Sunday was church. Crap-tastic weekend to the max man.

Monday after school and I'm still grounded for being 'impolite and un-Christian' to my shrink.

"Velma! Start on your laundry please!" Janice shouted up the stairs.

I groaned, forcing myself off the floor and kicked my hamper to the door. I opened the bland door and kicked the hamper to the top of the steps, nudging it so it would slide down and not spill when it hit the bottom.

I followed slowly, yawning when I reached the bottom before beginning to kick my dirty clothes towards the laundry room.

Yes, this house a whole room dedicated to laundry. And Christ, can't forget his lovable mug.

I started the laundry, listening to the news flash coming from the living room.

I couldn't catch much until I left and stood behind the couch, watching it with the weird family.

"The Joker has just blown up a junkyard, killing thirteen homeless and twenty workers", the British sounding woman exclaimed from the TV.

I rolled my eyes, leaving the room to go back upstairs.

Woo, I dress like a gay clown and blow shit up. Fear me!

Big whoop. A five year old can do that. In fact, I can do that.

I don't see why this guy scares everyone. And if he really did all those crimes, why not just send him to the chair?

Look at us! We're cops, we catch criminals and don't kill them! We put them in facilities with creepy pedo-doctors! Woo!

Wow, I must be really bored. I'm going insane, like, people who are scared of purple clowns insane.

Mirror Mirror on the wall,

Tuesday, youth group and other sundry things. Cough.

"And today, we have small group meetings after worship, so we have that to look forward to!" The leader hopped off the stage, allowing a different boy band to sing the same songs, even louder than last time.

I shivered; something about tonight unnerved me, there an empty car across the street from the church when we arrived. It was uncommon, and rubbed me the wrong way.

I shook these thoughts from my head, getting up and leaving 'worship, going outside for a big breath of Gotham pollution.

I smiled faintly; it was a fairly quiet night. I jumped, hearing a car rev furiously.

I turned to the rev noise, only to get hit in the face by a package of some sort. I let it drop and watched the white van from last Tuesday speed by. The same man hanging out of the window, he winked at me before going back in the car.

My eyes fell to the beat-up and squished box. It was a cardboard box colored purple with a sharpie and had two black circles above a red curved line on one side. I bent over, picking it up carefully and holding it near my head, rattling it softly.

Something bounced around and I decided to open it later.

Who is the fairest of them all?

And open it later I did. I pulled out the paper first. It was a joker card with writing on it.

For my little Raggedy Ann

-J

I didn't even try to decipher the message before reaching into the box again and pulled out a Raggedy Ann doll. I turned it over and dropped it. Whoever gave me this box, had given it black circles around the eyes and red Glasgow grin.

"JANICE!" I found myself screaming as I scrambled backwards off my bed and unkindly onto the floor.

I continued to scramble backwards and hit the wall next to my door as it flew open.

"What's wrong dear?" I faintly heard Janice ask as Joseph rushed in my room with a baseball bat after her.

I just continued shaking and stared at the bed. I felt Janice wrap her arms around me as Joseph let the bat hit floor while he approached my bed, first thing he picked up was the doll, gasping and picking up the card next.

He turned brown eyes to me, shock all over his face.

"Where did you get this?" He asked, fear dripping off his words and pooling in my head.

I continued to shake, staring at the doll he held in his hands.

"Joseph call the police", Janice said when I didn't reply.

Is it she who is built like a stick,

I stared at the table in front of me. I was in the interrogation room because the police thought I had contact with the Joker some how.

I heard the door open, but continued to stare at the steel table. Then I heard some shuffling and a heavy sigh.

"Do you know the Joker is?" A male asked tiredly.

I nodded my head, still staring at the table.

"Do you know what he does?"

I shrugged.

"When did you get the box?"

I moved only my eyes to look at the man. He had thick rimmed glasses and a large mustache.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I tried again, tears welling up in my eyes and shook my head quickly, curling into myself and shaking my head.

I curled even tighter, willing the world away.

The police man stood, leaving me in the room alone.

Alone, there's nothing in the world for me but my scars.

I jumped when I was asked a question by a gruff voice; I didn't hear anyone come in.

"Where did you get the box?"

I looked up at whoever spoke. It was a man in a strange get-up, very dark, with a cape and strange hood with a point on either side of his head.

"Youth group…" I whispered. "Youth group… youth group… Youth group… Youth Group. YOUTH GROUP!"

I said it, now leave me alone. Leave me alone.

But carries the heaviest burden?

I actually had a police escort following me around now. Great, I know.

No more selling for me.

That was a joke I hope you know. A horrid joke, but a joke none-the-less. The part about selling, not the police though.

They're there to 'protect' me in case the Joker decides to kill me.

Like that would happen. I'm just Velma Corel. Foster-child of the month. I'll probably be back at the orphanage in two-three months and all of this will be a douche-baggish adventure.

No exiting love story of crime, blood, sex and pain, just a girl remembering being called Raggedy Ann by a psychotic clown.

Mirrored face on the wall,

Who is the fakest, the truest of them all?