Joker's Janitor (FANFICTION)

I

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Margaret just wanted to get to work and clean the place, like she had done just about every day for the past five years.

It was always the same; unlock the back door to the diner, scrub and clean everything, reorder everything, then lock up and head home. It usually took about five to eight hours, depending on the state of the place.

She never had been very good with people, not that she was unable to be social. It was rather that she did not enjoy the mundane conversations of everyday bustling, especially those people that would drone on for hours about how their dreary lives were worse than anyone else's. She wished to duct tape such people's mouths with a ball of barbed wire between their teeth, just to allow her quiet, thinking time.

Now of course Margaret was not born 'crazy,' but rather you could put it down to one bad day...

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Her class had taken a trip to the park when she was about seven. Everyone was laughing and running around, while Margaret was being chased with a stick for not sharing her tootsie rolls with another girl in her class, Emily.
She ran behind a tree and fell into a ditch, landing on her backside. Emily ran past the tree and did not notice Margaret or the ditch until it was too late. She came down head first, splitting her skull on a sharp rock at the bottom.
The laughter of their class mates was loudly audible, yet no one had seen the two girls fall.
Emily's top and head were soaked in blood, the crack visible to Margaret as she tried to scream for help, but her voice had gone.
Margaret was hypnotized by those unblinking eyes and, what seemed to her, a smile upon Emily's lips. She couldn't help but smile as well, though she didn't know why. Her voice returned with an hysterical laugh, whilst tears poured from her eyes.

A teacher had heard the strange laughter and found them, though she fainted at the sight, falling just next to the hole.
Another teacher had noticed and rushed over, calling emergency services immediately.
Margaret had not stopped laughing the entire time, it was only when the paramedics sedated her that she finally became quiet.

The doctors did some tests and said she'd be fine, that the shock had blocked her memory and she seemed normal.

Over the years though, it seemed Margaret was not fine. For one, she became obsessed with cleaning, perhaps because of the blood from Emily, which she believed was always stuck under her nails and in every crease in her skin.
She also seemed to laugh at everything, from terrible jokes to people's pain, she'd laugh hysterically until her sides were fit to burst.
Another problem she had, was that she never really aged mentally passed ten, her maturity and comprehension of logic was lower than a teenager's.

As an adult, she had been ecstatic to have found a night job cleaning at a diner that was not far from her home. It allowed her to listen to her music whilst working, and less people on the streets meant a higher volume while walking to and from.

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Now, on this particular night, the manager had extended their hours without informing her, and she had a thing about people not sticking to the plan.

Turning up in her usual outfit; dark purple jeans and a dark green, long sleeved blouse, with about two centimeters of cleavage.
Her bleach stained, purple apron was folded neatly into her case, which also held her personal cleaning products for emergencies.

Those colours, purple and green, had been her favourite as far back as she could remember. Maybe it was due to the blood that had stained her blue uniform, creating a deadly violet, which clashed nicely with the green grass stains from the fall.

She owned five separate pairs of the same outfit, so she wouldn't have to do washing everyday. When going other places, she would wear casual, random clothes, but work gave her an excuse, as though it were her uniform.

Unlocking the back door, her music blocking any sounds, she noticed a light already on in the diner. Assuming they had forgotten it, she continued into the kitchen, where she found the cook preparing food.

The woman looked up at her, surprise was all Margaret could identify in the woman's face. She had seen this woman, Karin, who worked most afternoons, since Margaret visited the diner quite often for lunch.
Karin usually only worked until 8:00pm.

Continuing her walk, she removed her ear phones and hid them in her back pocket.

When the manager saw her walk through the door of his office, he placed a hand over his mouth, then forced a cough.
"Hello, is there something I can help you with?" He asked, composing himself. She had never let the manager see what she wore to work, as she assumed this would be his reaction. That's why she would leave atleast an hour between closing time and her arrival.

She breathed deeply, yet quietly. Crossing her arms over her breasts from insecurity, she asked, "I was wondering why the diner is open at such a late hour. Did I miss a message from you?"

He seemed unfazed by the question. "It's New Years Eve and I thought it would be a good idea, seeing as so many people will be staying up for the countdown anyway. I did not inform you, because I did not see how it would make a big difference to your job."