Senseless | Jerome Valeska

I. A Rhae of Sunshine

My parents and I had performed in the Regbo Family Circus since I was a child. My father and mother were a sword swallowing duo, while they pushed me more towards acrobatics. A vivid memory still haunts me: I had just turned ten earlier in the week. There was a 7pm show and my parents were preparing and I was eagerly watching. Though, they stopped abruptly and broke out into an argument. Then my father lifted one of his show swords and stuck it right through my mother. Every morning since then, I wake up seeing her face; her eyes losing sight, her face losing color.
The rest of the circus families agreed to cover it up, burry her and burn her things; no one really cares about us circus folk anyhow, let alone notice us. After that the company shut down, leaving all the performing families to go there separate ways. For eight years me and my father have been on the road. He picks up small jobs, at birthday parties and charity events. I try to pick up jobs as well, waitressing or performing at a bar, but it's hard when we're moving around so often.
About a week ago we drove through a city called Gotham where we expected to find minimal jobs, but ran into another circus. And they
welcomed us in with open arms.
Present day
I cracked an egg on the side of the pan, dropping it into the center and letting it sizzle. The egg crackled and popped until it was cooked to a solid. I scooped it from the pan and onto a plate alongside two extra crispy -burnt even- pieces of bacon, the way my father preferred it. I set the plate on the table and called out to my father, then sitting down with some breakfast of my own. He stumbled out of his room, his eyes bloodshot and groggy. He sat down without a word. I nodded to the cup in front of him, "I made you some coffee..." I said shyly, "for the hangover," he huffed and leaned forward a bit.
"Why the hell do you always assume I have a hangover," he asked sourly. It was more of a rhetorical question but I attempted to answer anyways.
"I, I guess, really I didn't mea-"
"You don't see me throwin' things at you all the time, huh?" He continued, raising his voice.
"I'm sorry if I offended you," I said meekly, looking down at my food. He scares me when he's angry, and I find it hard to make eye contact with him. Abruptly he stood up, pushing his chair back.
"M'not hungry," he said under his breath, picking up his plate and dumping the contents on the floor, then letting the plate drop next, "clean it up". He shuffled back to his room and slammed the door, making the hole trailer shake.
I slowly stood up and began to pick up the pieces of broken plate off the floor then the untouched egg and bacon. Soon after I had finished clean the dishes from breakfast and the previous night there was a knock at the door. I whiped my hands on my apron and proceeded to the door, to find the ringmaster -Mr. Sharp.
"Mornin' miss Tyson, a word?" He asked merrily. His face was already made up -white around his eyes, rosy cheeks, and some flashy red lips. I stepped out to talk to him, closing the door behind me. Before he could continue, a small squeaking to the right of me caught my attention. I noticed, in a small cage sat my pet mice -Tulley and Travis-. I refocused on Mr. Sharp. "I talked to the Graysons about you joining their act," he started, then gave a sigh, and continued, "they said no." Upon hearing that my mood shifted drastically. I could feel my pulse pick up and my eye starting to twitch.
"What am I supposed to do then?" I spit. I clutched my fists at my sides. He cleared his throat and answered,
"I was thinking perhaps you could be a magician," he suggested, making me scoff. I thought a moment then held up my pointer finger, indicating to him I had an idea. I walked over the cage of mice, opening it and retrieving Tulley. I walked back over to the ringmaster, showing him the mouse. He looked at it -puzzled. I stoked the back of its head lightly with my right index finger. I looked up at Mr. Sharp,
"Wanna see a magic trick?" I asked.
He blinked, unaware of what I would do next. I gestured toward Tulley, who squirmed in my left hand, "now you see him," I started. I took my right hand and held on to the mouse's head, shooting an devilish smirk at the man. I proceeded to twist the little creatures neck, creating a melody of cracks and squeals. It struggle in my hand, trying to wiggle loose. Then it stopped and I no longer felt the pulse in its neck, I ripped my hands apart, tearing the mouse's flesh. I let out a grunt and sighed when some of the muscles keeping the mouse in tact would not break. I brought the dead thing up to my mouth and bit the remaining flesh in half. I looked up and threw the decapitated head at the ringmaster's feet, "now you don't," before another word could be exchanged I dropped the other half of Tulley and stomped off angrily.
I directed myself towards an open field, quite far from where everyone set up camp. I was halfway there when I heard someone clear there throat behind me. I hoped to god it wasn't that pathetic ringmaster. I turned, whipping my hair over my shoulder. I was shocked to find not Mr. Sharp- but the snake dancer's son. He brushed his hand through his red hair,
"Where on earth did that come from?" He asked curiously. I assumed he was referring to the scene I had just made. My cheeks heated in embarrassment. I twiddled my thumbs trying to string together an explanation and he looked at me expectantly.
"This whole spiel with the Graysons, they won't let me perform with them," I informed him. He shook his head in acknowledgment, and then gave a small chuckle. I was confused on why he was laughing at the matter and furrowed my eyebrows waiting for an explanation.
He smiled, "So you bit off a rat's head?" I huffed at him sarcastically.
"It was a mouse" I corrected him and we both erupted into a fit of laughter.
"You're bad..." He cooed, stepping closer. I rolled my eyes, taking it as a compliment. "I'm Jerome," he said, sticking out his hand- accompanied with a toothy smile. I shook it,
"I'm Rhae, Rhae Tyson."