AN: Finally, am I right? But for real, sorry everyone. I had an incredible amount of things going on for several weeks, and when I finally got to a point where I could write again, my laptop broke. So, that's my excuse. I can at least promise the next chapter coming pretty soon. In like, a week or less. I've got it written, it's just a matter of sitting down and editing. Thanks to anyone that's actually come back to this after all this time, and thanks to any new readers. Hope everyone enjoys.

When night falls, I'm tempted to go to the store I plan on stealing from. It's called "Fancy Lady" and I've always wanted a dress from there. They're extremely expensive and very beautiful, but I've never had a reason to wear a fabulous dress or the money to buy one. I'm excited for this opportunity. Maybe I'll attract myself a rich man and buy all the solutions to my problems. I smile and laugh to myself. I don't think money can save me at this point; the Joker doesn't seem the type to take a bribe.

I've decided to wait until at least midnight to leave. I'm not sure why, but it feels right. The place is upscale, but not upscale enough for an alarm system, I don't think. At least, I hope, since it's 2:30am and I'm weighing my options outside of the store. I could just chuck a rock, but that doesn't feel wise. I don't want to deal with cops anymore than I want to deal with the Joker. I frown at my logic; I think my priorities have gotten scrambled along the way. I shake my head like an etch-a-sketch to clear it.

The front door is out in the open. If I want to use it, it'll be difficult to be sneaky. The back door, though, would be much harder to break into since I've never learned to pick a lock. I stare through the large display window, contemplating. Elegant and flowing gowns are presented. It looks like they're having a sale on wedding dresses. It just seems silly to imagine myself in one of those; not just for the party, but in general. I've never been the marrying type. I look back to the front entrance.

It's a glass and glossy, cherry wood paneled door, elegantly painted with the store's logo in swirling white cursive. From the top to about half way down is sectioned of into twelve small windows, while the bottom half is perfect, smooth wood. I could smash one of the sections of glass, that would be enough for me to reach in and unlock the door manually, but would definitely set of alarms if there are any installed. I huff, growing impatient with my indecision. I could also smash the display window and get it over with. I smile to myself. I don't have the time to waste on overthinking this. Even if I'm arrested, it'll be an experience enough for me. Hell, it might even protect me from the Joker. I chuckle quietly at the thought.

What is it the kids are saying now? I wonder, taking a sizeable discarded chunk of concrete and weighing it in my palm. YOLO, I think. You Only Live Once. That holds quite true for me at the moment, and, if I'm anything, I'm hip and with it, down with today's youth.

I don't sling the rock, but carefully overhand swing it to slam the thick glass. The hit echoes through the quiet streets far louder than I wish, but successfully sends a crack to cut across the clear surface. A second whack is enough to punch a hole big enough for my hand. I'm surprised to find myself beaming at the satisfaction of destruction. I almost feel like I want to smash up the whole store, now. There's a certain sense of power breaking stuff makes me feel. A sense of being in control.

As I enter, glass crunching under my shoes. I immediately regret not grabbing a flashlight. I attempt my search briefly, squinting at a few dresses in the dark before deciding that there's no way for me to possibly choose the dress I want without light, and I refuse to settle when it comes to the dress I may die in.

Without much thought, I simply flip on the lights.

Now, let's see, based on my little knowledge on any sort of fashion, I know bright colors look good with my olive sort of skin tone; it's supposed to make me look tanner, or something. At least I think. Someone told me or I read it somewhere; maybe I overheard it. Ugh, forget it, I'll just go with whatever catches my eye. Who cares if it goes with my skin tone. What does that even mean?

I always thought that it'd be nice to have a delicate, ivory skin like my mother, but I don't mind taking after my father. It makes me happy to look like him. I shrug off the thought of my parents and rifle through more clothing. They sell shoes here, too, so I'll be able to take the opportunity to show off my ability to wear heels. Once I choose a dress, that is.

After nearly ten minutes, I sigh in defeat. None of these dresses catch my eye. I mean, they're all lovely, but none of them feel right. I smirk at myself; I'm acting like I'm on an episode of "Say Yes to the Dress". I see some gorgeous greens, and reds, a sleek skirted blue and a thigh high slitted purple, but none of them strike my fancy. I swim through the peaches and beiges for a classy look, but, again, they don't quite work. The fact that I haven't even liked one enough to try on begins discouraging me.

"No… no… no…" I mumble after glancing at each dress, moving down the line. I'm going to run out soon. And then what? I exhale uneasily and pause at a golden yellow dress. Dear Lord, this thing is bright. It looks out of place, almost. The right corner of my lips yanks up. It cracks me up a little. I mean, just look at this yellow ass dress! It's kind of ridiculous. Giggles rattle in my throat and push at my closed mouth. My smile slides off my face and my brow furrows when I start to wonder if I want it. I mean, It's got a nice shape to it. It's sleeveless and kind of drapey with a full coverage front and open back. Not to mention it's the only dress that has caught my attention. Not necessarily in the way I was expecting, but I think I like it. It's a loud dress. It stands out, unlike me. If were to ever change that, tomorrow night would be the night.

"Sure, why not?" I say out loud and pull the hanger from the collection of dresses. I hold the gown away from the floor and consider not even bothering with a dressing room; I mean, the store's empty. After a brief moment of thought, I strip behind the door of a changing room, just to be on the safe side. The dressing room is no bigger than a closet with cringe worthy hot pink interior.

The bright material is thin, soft, and breathable. It hangs on my shoulders and hugs just below my ribcage with an elegant twist of fabric. I turn to view the back of myself in the floor length mirror cemented to the rosey door. The dress reveals my protruding shoulder blades and arching spine. Not bad, it's a shame the skirt is long enough to hide my feet, though. I can't exactly hire a tailor. If I was about six inches taller, I think this dress would be perfect. I gather the loose fabric to keep it from dragging and exit the changing room.

The skirt rubs gently across my legs as I approach the other end of the store, the shoe motherload. Shoes upon shoes. Stilettos, platform heels, short clunky heels, and flats. I make a steady beeline for the platform stilettos. Preferably, the smaller the platform the better; too much platform can take a look from classy to trashy so fast. At least in my eyes.

Thankfully, looking for shoes goes a lot smoother than looking for a dress. The first pair of heels my eyes focus on I instantly know are the ones. Heh, listen to me: "the one". Like I ever believed in silly stuff like that. My hand hovers over the shoes. I always thought Mom and Dad were each others' "the ones". I suppose I do believe in silly stuff, afterall. Silly doesn't feel like the right word. The thought that there is someone out there considered to be your "the one" could be called something like beautiful. To me, though, I think it's more horrible than beautiful.

If there actually is a "the one" for me, then the chances of me meeting him (or her, I guess, you never know) are literally 1 to 7 billion. How cruel. Even if, by some miracle, I did find him, and we did end up together, one of us would die first. Every single odd is stacked against us in this life. An unconscious smile creeps over my features. If god is out there, he must be a sadist.

I let my hand fall to the pair of shoes. The soft purple velvet greets my flesh. With my sneakers abandoned in the dressing room, I slip my chilled feet into the silken emerald lined interier of the heels. With only a one inch platform and a whopping five inch heel, my foot contorts to the shape of a barbie doll's. Despite that, the shoe still holds my feet comfortably. I've always had a flair for heels, especially after my stint with them from ages 19-25.

I drop the hem of my dress. It falls only an inch shy of the ground.

"Perfect," I smile to myself. I decide to do a lap around the store to test how much I actually remember on how to hold myself in shoes like this. It takes only two strides for my gait to steady and flow perfectly. A few more and I forget that I'm even wearing shoes different from sneakers, especially as my attention is grabbed by a section of the store I never knew existed. I dart toward it, heels clacking.

It looks like it's for some kind of masquerade event. It's only a small corner section, but the area is spattered with masquerade themed accessories. There are intricate masks splayed on the wall, donned with feathers and printed with silvers and gold. Extravagant jewelry and hair pieces and tufted hats, flamboyant hoop skirts and flashy shawls. Well, for the next masquerade ball I'm invited too, I know where I'm going shopping.

My eyes drift across the landscape of masks. I see a small, black one with with feathers and swirls bursting elegantly from the sides, a golden one with red embroidery and a perfect rose blooming above the right eye hole. I spot a green one with little embellishment and straight, hard edges pointing away from the center. As I aimlessly gaze, my eyes are suddenly tugged toward the animal masks. There're cats and elephants, rabbits and birds, and the mask that I pull toward, a mouse. Or, maybe it's a rat.

The snout of the mask sticks out several inches forward with a delicate pink nose on the tip. I snicker at it's goofy, massive ears, and arguably unnerving slivers of black eyes. It's brown painted fur looks airbrushed and oddly realistic.

On a whim, I slide the thing over my face. My giggle echos inside the plastic. I peer around the store through the narrowed eyes of the mouse, losing my periphery, and rotating on the balls of my feet. I feel pleased enough with my new height to softly hum a nameless tune as I smile contently for the first time since I can remember. The feeling quickly dies, like the tide being sucked into the growing ocean of panic that suddenly fills my mind.

"B-Batman?!" I stutter out, face to face with the man-or bat, I guess.

He doesn't respond, but I can see his dark eyes taking in the situation. His black, looming figure towers over me, despite my heels and him standing at least three feet away. His presence intimidating, giving off waves of authority. My heart is fluttering in my chest; I feel more surprised than anything. Honestly, I'm a bit starstruck. The atmosphere is thick with tension that always makes me want to laugh.

"Are you gonna make me say it?" he asks a touch annoyed and in a voice that makes me bite my tongue to stay silent. Who even talks like that? It sounds ridiculous!

I manage to keep quiet.

He sighs as if annoyed and says "Fine. I can't arrest you here, but I can take you to someone who can. You're coming with me to the police station for breaking an entering and attempted theft. Now, are we going to walk there, or am I going to have to carry you?"

I don't attempt to hold back my immediate laughter. It's boisterous, but genuine. His aura of power and strength seems to dissolve before my eyes.

"Oh, we have to walk? Don't you drive?" I joke through giggles. I try to hold it back a bit to speak, because it looks like I'm going to have to explain the joke to him. I speak with a condescending smile.

"Dude-Sir," I correct with slight sarcasm, "Are you seriously going to waste your time here? With me?" I ask disbelievingly; he still doesn't get it.

"You are serious," I state, all humor gone from my voice, "When there are actual criminals out there?"

"Stealing is a crime."

"Yeah, but I'm not murdering anyone or involved with the mob, hell, I don't even have a weapon. Why don't you actually help the city by arresting an actual dangerous person. Someone like, oh, I don't know…" I mock a deep thinker for a second before stating the incredibly obvious, "The Joker. Just a thought." I shrug.

He seems a bit taken aback and doesn't reply immediately, so I continue as confidently as I can, entering the changing room to replace my regular clothes. I drape the yellow gown over my arm and carry the shoes by the heels. Deciding my only choice is to just walk out, I can only barely notice my complete lack of fear or anxiety. In this tense, high stress situation, I feel completely calm. In my eyes, the Batman is far less terrifying than the Joker. I stride past the man to the door; he hesitates to stop me.

"Stop, you can't-" he starts, reaching toward me.

"Make sure you get the lights on the way out. No sense in wasting the power." I shut him down as I cross the threshold of the exit. As I step onto the street, I quickly dart between buildings and sprint around a few corners in the twisty brick alleys before I have to rest and, without much thought, I approach an abandoned couch by a poorly lit dumpster. I step on the furniture for leverage and let my body fall backwards into the metal trash hole. I brace my new clothing against my stomach.

The breath is knocked out of my lungs as my back slams onto hard bottom of the recently emptied dumpster. I lay still a moment, trying to catch my breath as quietly as possible. I listen for Batman, regretting my decision to catapult myself into a place where dignity is now unreachable. I wait for my inevitable arrest.

I look up to the black sky, stars invisible from light pollution. I smile at the new way to describe myself: An invisible star. My smile falters. Invisible, maybe, but I'm no star. I stiffen when a sound meets my ears. A single "ha" bursts from my lips before I smack my hand over my mouth. I'm scared now. I'm scared of going to jail, I'm scared of Batman, I'm scared of the Joker, I'm scared of the bugs in this dumpster, hell, I'm scared of the dark. How on earth did a fraidy cat like me end up in a situation like this?

We're talking about Miss "needed a nightlight until she was 13", Miss "hasn't made a friend in years", Miss "never fell in love". My life has been a consistent, uneventful, schedule since my father died. What on Earth made it change so suddenly? What cosmic power decided to shift the way it was? Why me? Is it because I'm being punished, is it because of my winning personality, or is it my witty charm? I start laughing under my palm. Water trickles from the corner of my eyes. When I reach to rub it away, I realize I've still got the masquerade mask on. I snort and pull it back, the walls of the mask finally returning my periphery back to me.

Every muscles in my body coils at what I see. I see the eyes and nose of a face peering down at me over the lip of the dumpster in my shameful position. I jolt up to a sitting position with my back smashing into wall of what I now fear to be my metal tomb. Some man, probably an insane cannibal vagrant, is most likely planning on the best way to murder me right now. Another tear forms in the corner of my eyes when I forcefully clamp my teeth on my bottom lip. I somehow succeed in holding back a laugh after the thought "Gee, I hope Batman gets here soon" zips through my mind.

The homeless murder laughs and my jaw drops.

No way; that sounded like- I blink and he's gone. I rub my eyes and rise from the dumpster. I ungracefully clamber out. Did I imagine him? I huff irritably and continue on my way home. I probably did, considering how often the Joker's been on my mind. I clutch my shoes and dress against my chest and imagine the mouse mask sitting alone in the dumpster. There's probably some metaphor there somewhere, but my nerves are frazzled. I need a good rest before the fundraiser, my last party.

Again, sorry for the incredibly long delay. Update coming next chance I get to sit at a computer. (I've accidentally written like, three chapters in one sitting) Thanks for the support 3