Crazy Angel

Memories

Jerome had been through a significant amount in the last two months. Despite starting the year as his normal, completely sane self, something made him snap within the first few weeks of February. As the innocence drained from him every single day, one dark night he snapped the last string struggling to hold him together. This resulted in the rather dark and ruthless murder of his mother. 

She was asking for it, if you asked him. Jerome claimed his mother always picked up on all the bad things he did. According to the ginger male, she even raised her voice that Mr Cicero and some other people in the field heard her. Of course, nobody outside of the circus believe him. 

Why should they? He practically denied all charges pressed against him by the GCPD, but then he broke out into psychotic laughter and found the interrogation funny as he revealed he did, in fact, kill him mother with a hatchet.  

Now, consequently because of his breakdown, he was in Arkham Asylum. Jerome carefully analysed everyone, and sooner than later, he found himself immersed in other people's 'post Arkham' life. While his questions occasionally got him a busted lip and a black eye, he continued pestering everyone in his sector for information. 

One guy there was even a doctor before he came here. Gave the patients his own medicine instead of their prescription, making their organs stop one by one. That was by far the most interesting story he'd heard. 

Jerome wasn't good at being sociable - he'd always end up getting beaten up or the person on the receiving end of his comments would simply walk away and block him out. However, being in the Asylum with all the nut-cases, Jerome knew a little crazy chit-chat would get some people on his side. Surprisingly, he made a friend. Big tall guy, bald, and who acted a bit dumb. If Jerome would compare this man to someone, he'd say Lennie from the book 'Of Mice & Men'. He acted in a way Lennie would, if Jerome recalled from his previous English lessons, with the personality to not hurt a fly but the instincts and the reactions to kill. 

The noise in the sector was rather silent. Some conversations were rather inaudible, despite Jerome sitting next to the two communicating with each other. Of course, when Jerome talked, he was flamboyant with his hand movements, facial expressions and tone of voice. The younger male found himself having a more playful and fun nature than the other guys in the Asylum, as he liked to make jokes and laugh... In all the wrong ways.

He'd find his jokes funny, even if it was insulting someone else. Well, mainly if it was insulting someone. Jerome was called a 'natural clown' by his past circus 'friends', and embraced this clown-like personality with wide arms and a manic grin. 

Jerome was insane, no doubt about it. 

But... He loved that about himself. If he could love anything about himself, it would either his insanity or his jokes and his laugh. A laugh that could very much make anyone quiver in their skin. There is no way to describe it - you just have to hear it to believe it. 

He found himself occupied by carving a tally into his cell wall with a rock that came through the barred windows when he first occupied it. After a month, he had marked a line thirty one times on the wall, resulting in the rock's blunt but rather smooth surface. While there was nobody to amused him, he'd take the time to carve various things into the wall. The guards didn't care what you did inside the Asylum walls - they believe bad things happen to bad people, so they wouldn't help if you get punched in the face and viciously thrown to the ground... Something Jerome found out the hard and rather bruising way.

He was daydreaming, as he always did, when the sound of multiple chairs scraping across the metal floor sent shivers down his spine and snapped him out of his subconsciousness. 

Everyone was basically standing up from their regular seats, glaring at a corner of the room. Jerome, curious as ever, stepped outside his cell. Three bodies were on the ground, groaning and writhing on the floor. Jerome knew something was wrong when his friend, the living embodiment of Lennie Small, was one of the three on the ground. 

"Men never learn. You don't screw with the likes of me." Jerome wasn't sure what surprised him. The threat that this person just made to everyone, or the hint of femininity in their voice - which sounded rather familiar to him. 

Pushing past the growing crowd, he saw the figure of a rather tall blonde female stepping over the three bodies on the ground. He paused in his steps, seeing a glimpse of the scar down the side of her face. Jerome felt a spark in his heart, a spark he hasn't felt in a long time. 

A spark of passion. 

"Emily?" He asked, as all heads turned to him, including the blondes. Seeing her reaction, his grin spread across his cheeks. 

"Jerome... God damn it, I wanted to be free of my past! Now I have you here!" She grumbled, crossing her tattooed arms and walking past the ginger boy with a roll of her eyes. The other inmates were either looking at the girl, 'Emily', or Jerome. Finally, someone broke the silence. One of the men on the floor managed out a few words. "H-How do you know her?!" He shouted, and Jerome couldn't tell if this man was angry at the fact a girl just beat him up, or if he was furious that Jerome knew her. Either way, Jerome laughed. 

"Acrobat. Worked for my circus."

"You mean Mr. Cicero's circus, dummy!"

Jerome cast his gaze back at Emily. Undoubtedly, he thought she was the prettiest circus performer he had ever seen.  Of course, with her being in the Asylum, that made Jerome think she was even more prettier. However, at the name of Mr. Cicero, his expression and mood turned sour. 

"Mr Cicero apparently is my father, and since I killed him,  technically I own the circus." He murmured to himself, turning back to his cell and continuing to carve words into the wall. 

People approached him many times that afternoon - asking about this mysterious woman. Jerome didn't want to talk about her - not now, anyway. However, he couldn't help but think about what landed her in here. Did she kill somebody? Burn down a building? Maybe she didn't do a crime, but maybe she was turned in because her innocence deteriorated. 

Jerome was going to find out.. But not tonight. He'd leave Emily for a few days, see how she 'fits in' after her antics.