Jerome & Harleen

2 • Identity Revealed

September 21
8:30 pm

"You ain't seen nothin yet!" the security footage on the TV now blairs and I bolt down the stairs. I recognize his voice from the other day. The news is on; a mass killing was committed...by Jerome.
Almost everyone who was present in the GCPD at the time is dead. The screen switches to an interview, a young female reporter and some policeman named Gordon.
"His name's Jerome Valeska. He's eighteen, and recently escaped from Arkham Asylum. So far, he's committed matricide and several homicides...it's a new day in the GCPD. This young man must be stopped." the officer grunts.
I stumble backward, and I suddenly feel light headed. From the couch, Mom asks if I am alright, but I don't reply. I dash up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door shut.
I lean against the door after safely being shut inside and slide down onto the floor, still taking it all in.
Jerome. 18. Murderer. Psychopath. The same boy from the other day, the one who seemed so considerate. He was weird, sure. But psychopath weird? I didn't think so until I saw his villainous face, covered in blood or the innocent victims killed at his hand. Nearly ten people died.
I talked to him. He sat next to me; our shoulders almost touched. He was nice. He learned my name.
I'm honestly glad I didn't do anything to tick him off, he probably wouldn't have hesitated to kill me. I was so near death. Such a horrible person...I didn't even know.
My breathing rate increases; I suck in air as if none ever existed on the planet. It seems like I've been living in a false reality, a bubble that's now been popped. I feel like I'm underwater...and I'm drowning.

September 22
7:13 am

I wake up to sunlight, brightly streaming in through my window. Cars honk outside, stories and stories below. I groan as everything from the previous day suddenly floods back to me. When did I fall asleep? I grab my alarm clock, and squint to read it. 7:13. I must've slept for at least twelve hours. I hardly even remember what happened after seeing the news.
I roll over and put a foot on the cold, wood floor. My head aches, and my hair's a mess. I walk into the kitchen and eat an apple, though I'm hardly hungry. I decide to take a shower.
After walking into the bathroom and undressing, I turn on the water and let it engulf me.

4:52 pm

After school, I click on the TV and try to find a channel with something that'll take me mind off of the whole mass murder thing, but nothing's on. I sigh and throw the remote down onto the table.
"Are you alright?" my mom asks from the kitchen. "You seemed a bit shaken last night."
"I'm good. Just...fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, mom." I fake a smile. Telling her about it would only freak her out, as if I wasn't freaking out enough already.
"Okay..." she sighs. "It's awful what happened yesterday. Do you know that nine people were killed?"
I do, actually.
"It pains me to know there are people like that out there...so...so sick," she continues.
Sick. Sure.
She goes on. "You need to be more careful when going places. I'll go with you on the bus if you need to go anywhere." Shaking her head, she trails off. "I swear, this city..."
I totally get what she's saying, but I just can't listen to her talk anymore. I have bigger things on my mind. I nod at mom and go back into my room. Alone, cooped up with my thoughts again.
My thoughts.
My mind never stopped buzzing with the knowledge that I was literally within a foot of a psychopathic murderer. It's weird...but the immediate shock has blown over. I didn't die. That's what matters.
So a strange feeling emerges. An emotion I can't quite name. It's odd...that's all I know. But underneath that unplaceable feeling, buried under layer upon layer of weirdness, anxiousness...there is fascination.
It's shameful...but I find him charismatic. And interesting. I think his case is so compelling. I want to learn more about him. Maybe I will.