A/N: So, I was looking back at this chapter and decided that I wanted to try and re-do it. Howeverrrrr, I'm pretty sick with something and I'm feeling a bit loopy ;-; but that's like the exact mood you wanna be in when you write something like this, however, it's not the perfect mood to spell stuff right, or like write well. If that makes any sense at all? ;-; anyways! Anyways, enjoy! :DD
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"Stop hitting me," I managed to get out through gritted teeth. The sidewalk's pavement felt cold underneath my scratched up fingers.
"Then give us your money!" One of the thugs growled as they kicked my side again.
They kicked me before I could tell them that I'd been living in a tent for the past few days. Then, one of them kicked me in the head. My vision blurred. I don't know what it was, but that seemed to have kicked out somethin' important.
Suddenly, a scream.
A loud bang.
Another.
Was I hallucinating, or was there a-…a clown?
Oh, good. I love clowns. Maybe they'll do a little trick for me, and distract me from all this pain.
The green-haired clown looks down at me. His shirt is polka-dotted red. Or was it splattered…?
"You okay down there?" He cupped a hand around his mouth, as if I was far away and he was calling to me. I laughed. I'm so lucky there's a clown here to cheer me up.
Cheeeeeeer.
"Cheers!" I laugh, loudly.
Is that how you form a sentence? He doesn't seem to care. He even seems like he's…entertained. That's a bit backwards, isn't it? The clown is supposed to be the one entertaining me. Maybe I should be a Clown…
He pulls me up. He looks familiar. He's skinny and tall and wearing a fabulous purple outfit. The colors are so pretty and bright…
I wobble a bit on my feet.
"Woah there," He says, like I'm a horse. He steadies me with a hand on my shoulder. I neigh, softly. It makes sense to him.
"Where's your parents, kiddo?" He asks. I'm not quite sure, but this question makes my heart hurt.
I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know, but it makes my chest feel funny when you stay that. So cut it out!"
He looks at me oddly for the first time that night. "You have no folks either? Looks we're pals then."
He hooks his arm through mine. It makes my lips curve upwards. Something about this clown just makes you want to be happy. That's the thing about clowns, I guess.
"I'd love to be a clown too!" I tug at his pretty purple sleeve. He shakes his head, immediately declining.
"No way. You're too-…tiny, to do what I do."
He didn't say 'clown'.
"I can do-…what you do, just fine! I'm fun-sized!" I assure him. Clowning is easy. I can make people smile whenever I want!
"So, you have a name?" He asks, obviously trying to change the subject.
I like being asked questions I know the answer to.
"Becca Odyssey Dane!" I quip.
"Odyssey…" He mumbles. "That's funto say! Say it with me now!"
We spent the next few minutes saying my name over and over.
"What's your name?" I ask, genuinely curious now that we got all that 'Odyssey'-ing out of the way.
"I go by a nickname too. The Joker."
My eyes light up. "So you are a clown!"
I was so distracted by the conversation that I hadn't even realized we had arrived at a random warehouse. Seemingly abandoned by the looks of it.
"I love clowns."
Something in his expression changed a bit more. A little like a smile, a little like a frown. Full of bitter pain and joyful tiredness all at once. Like he'd just climbed a mountain and was excited to just sit down and relax for once.
"Me too."
My name is Becca Odyssey Dane, and my father is The Joker. He's training me to be a villain too, and I won't regret a single minute of it.
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A/N: okay, so that was! The updated version! have a wonderful day! 33