𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 || jerome valeska

𝐯𝐢𝐢. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒.

    It's 7a.m. on a Monday. Barbra's up before her parents. She believes it's going to feel like a long day, but she knows that the entire thing is going to be a breeze, an experience. Everything is an experience to her. The circus, the whole lot of crazy that's stuffed in her brain, and now this: a day in a life with the crazies themselves.

She wears a white short-sleeved blouse, black pants, a grey oversized cardigan, and black & white converse. Plain boring converse. Nothing special, but it suites her. She fixes the collar to her shirt and ties up the strings on her shoes. She does her make-up, nothing spectacular, just a pure, calm look.

Barbra takes her car keys off the hook and puts on her sunglasses. She feels like the world is hers, that she could take on anything that's thrown at her. She smiles and waves to her neighbor who is watering their front lawn. She feels like Angelique Bouchard from the movie Dark Shadows.

It exhilarates her, the thought of being in a mad house? Gee I can't wait, she thought. She steps on the gas and in a matter of seconds she feels like she's there already.

—

    She parks her car, locks it, and makes her way to the front doors of the Asylum. She takes off her sunglasses and puts them in a plastic tub. She has to go through security of course and with that came the taking of shoes and cardigan off. Once she's done, she's handed a key card and a name tag with her last name in it only. Lincoln.

She puts everything she took off back on. The one thing she leaves behind is her purse which holds both her car keys and sunglasses inside. She ties her hair in a loose, low bun.

She's not going to do much today probably, but she's happy to do any job she gets her hands on. Even if it's feeding inmates or letting inmates out of their cells to go to the reck area to socialize.

Barbra's not allowed to roam the halls by herself, but she so desperately wants to venture around and find hidden doors or rooms. But the entire time she finds herself trying to avoid her mother, the blonde didn't want her telling her what to do like she did at home.

—

    By lunch, Barbra is done working with patients in the hospital wing that she's instructed to go down to the second floor and help gather inmates to take them to the reck room on the first floor. She bites her lip every passing moment trying not to giggle at the childish acts of some of the numb brained prisoners.

She hears an echo of laughter come from down the line behind her, she tries to ignore it, but it keeps ringing in her ears. She turns around and does her best not to look annoyed, but then her breath hitches at the back of her throat when she sees who it is.

Fiery red hair. Freckles. Tall. Handsome. Wickedest and wackiest grin she has ever seen. Jerome Valeska. She gulps heavily. He catches her eye. M-Maybe he won't recognize me, they must have friend his brain enough since he's been here, right?

    "Oh, sorry hunny, am I being too loud?" He jokes, placing his hand on her shoulder like he's taking her feelings into consideration. I don't think they're allowed to touch us, Barbra notes. He eyes her up and down and smiles. Her cheeks turn bright red. Barbra balls her fists, she hates that look. She's seen it before in the eyes of the many men before the ginger and she despises it with a burning passion. It's a look of lust and pitied empathy. That look lead to heartbreak.

    He laughs louder this time as he continues his way to the common area of the dull place. Eventually, Barbra catches up with the rest of the group.
    She couldn't say it, she wouldn't say it! "You don't remember me do you," she asks immediately regretting it afterward with a bite of her lip.
    "Oh, I've seen a lots of pretty faces in my day sweetheart and your's ain't one of 'em." He comments, his arms swinging back and forth childishly. Front to back. Barbra scrunched her nose and crosses her arms.
    "My name's Ms. Lincoln. I've hear a lot about you, Mr. Valeska." She replies politely.

    He gasps fakely, a hand on his chest. "I'm honored to meet your acquaintance malady," he snickers.
    He acts like a child and Barbra couldn't help but smile. "And I'm glad to be apart of your presents."
    "You shouldn't be 'glad', you should be scared." He says, a wide psychotic grin starts to appear on his face.
    Barbra raises a brow. "And why is that?" She asks, obviously unamused, nor scared.
    "Lincoln, stop talking to the inmates or I'll assign you to handle another job if you can't handle this one." Her instructor demands.

Barbra jumps out of her skin. Jerome laughs at the look in her eyes. Soon enough, Jerome and the rest of the inmates are locked up behind the fence of the reck room. As they were served and fed lunch, Barbra couldn't help but stare at all of them, especially Jerome. She found him so fascinating. 'You should be scared', he told her, but she wasn't. Not one tiny bit.

If anything, she wants to be apart of his homicidal path and chaotic actions. She smiles and starts her brainstorming.

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE!
    have wonderful day/night!