Chemical Chaos (A Joker Story [Sequel to "Don't Get Even...Get Mad"])

1: Violet

"Whatever Doesn't Kill You Simply Makes You Stranger" Trilogy:

1. Whatever Doesn't Kill You Simply Makes You Stranger

2. Don't Get Even...Get Mad

3. Chemical Chaos

--------------------------------------

On these cold, winter nights in Gotham city, sitting up in my room I decided against doing things that would create chaos in my household. I didn't want to turn on the news, I didn't want to work out, I didn't want to speak to my friends on the phone. I wanted to stay in my room, as a recluse, secluding myself from the rest of the world. I was going to read a book at my window with a nice, steaming cup of Green Tea whilst soft, classical music played.

Born into a strangely functional family, I've been known to have many secrets of which no one cares enough to unfold. I go to Gotham High and I very much enjoy it, and I love watching as criminals fly past my window and Batman hurriedly follows in pursuit. Gotham is the place to be, but only if you are rich. If you are poor, then. . . .Well, that sucks for you.

My family is filthy rich, though all of us are drawn back from society except for my mother and father, they decide to go out every now and then which leaves me and my brother, and my baby sister alone in this huge house. But, I don't mind.

Looking in the mirror, I saw my brown, lovely hair cascade down to my developing bussom, and frowned. I wanted my hair to grow longer, like my mother's. Her hair was gorgeously long.

My eyes, green, wide, young, made me feel odd. I felt so much older in this house. I was only thirteen years old and I could easily qualify for the Olympics, and I was really into science. I was the perfect child, in a home that, in society's opinion, was unhealthy and unsafe.

But I freaking love my family. Everything about it. My parents are still young hearted and laid back, they don't even look their age, they look much younger. My mother is still gorgeous, and in love with my father, who is completely and utterly faithful to her. They are the perfect idea of marriage, despite their life choices.

"Violet!" I groaned and set down my book, The Greatest Show on Earth: The Evidence for Evolution, and set it on my bed, opening my room with fire in my eyes.

"What?" I snapped at my idiot brother. He was an idiot because he spilled coffee on my science experiment and caused it to catch on fire. All those materials, gone. Of course, my dad would pay for all of it but I didn't want to burden him in such a way. He does have a job.

"I'm sorry," he frowned, his blonde, curly hair sliding in front of his sharp green eyes. "I'll go get the supplies tonight, just give me the list of supplies you need."

I sighed, and nodded. "Thanks, Kaleb." I smiled widely, handing him the list.

My father walked over to us, his dark, brown eyes catching our attention instead of his ridiculously contradicting outfit. His dyed, green hair was smoothed back and he had a dominance that lingered throughout the air. His shoulders were square, and his perfect posture was one people would definitely differentiate from the one portrayed on television. The purple suit he wore was stained with blood.

"Kaleb has this all under control?" he sighed tiredly, playing with his left glove lightly. I nodded.

"Don't worry, dad. We got this!" I smirked, he smiled.

"I can do the experiment with you if you'd like. I like blowing shit up."

"LANGUAGE!" my mother screamed from across the large mansion, I cringed, not expecting her hearing to be so great since she was older than me. The typical teenage opinion.

"Shit," my father mumbled. "I mean, I like blowing 'stuff' up." he corrected loudly, and then smiled at me.

My mother walked into the room, walking in such a way that made us almost forget our father was in the room. She was classy and controlled, she was my role model, even though I didn't admit it. She taught me that any woman could assert dominance over anyone, even Gotham's biggest criminal.

My parents are The Joker and Memoria, the world's most infamous criminals.