Jokes // m.c

Sleep.?

Hey. So I went to the mall with my cousin, and I went to Hot Topic and I found this sick shirt of The Joker. It has his face on it and it has my favorite quote. "Whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you stranger." Omfg, I got it and l literally changed into it. lol (I had this big ass stain, I had cinnamon rolls..). So I walked out and this random ass chick walks up to me with her group of bitches in the back. "Why are you wearing a guy shirt, and that guy is dead anyways. He wasn't even that famous. Wear something that isn't stupid." she says, like straight in my face. My cousin was ready to cuss her out until I fucking defended myself. "Look who is talking, you are wearing shorts that show your ass, and have you notice you don't have one. At least I am covering up wearing jeans and a "guy" shirt, and not like you who is dressed as a slut. Your chest is flatter than a fucking piece of paper. At least he was an actor that nobody knew about, so people won't get in their own personal life, so they also can be feeling like a normal person. He died for a reason, he died because alot of fucking problems were happening, and he didn't know how to feel or control it or even solve it. So before you talk shit about people, think before you speak." I tell her. I then walk away, wanting to cry, because the real actor (Heath Ledger) was going through depression. He took alot of depression pills, which led to overdose and died. So that really pissed me off, because I am coming back to depression, and they don't know what I am or what that person is going through. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this update. Please enjoy this amazing quote of the actor himself, I just can't believe he is dead. *Sigh* Byee xx 

Rebecca's POV:

"I  was kidnapped, just like you. They did the same thing to me, nothing different. We both hated each other, but I never knew the reason why he added me to be part of his cruel games." he says. "Do you know the real person of The Joker.?" I ask. "I can't say anything, people eventually find out. It took alot of patience for me to find out, but I already know. He never tells you any personal stuff of his life, which I understand." he says, running his fingers through his hair. "Ohh." I say. "I have been meaning to ask you.." he says, trailing off. "What.?" I ask. He stays silent, looking in complete space. "What.?" I repeat, waking him from his thoughts. "Ohh, how are your cuts and wounds.?" he asks, looking down at his hands. "They don't hurt, just sting from time to time." I say. "Ohh." he says. "How has your life been, before all this happened.?" he asks me. "The same. Just more abuse from my dick head dad. That's how I got all these." I say, pointing to the bloody bandages. "He still does that.?" he mumbles. "Yup. I still remember that day you got hit with the baseball bat on your head just because you took me home five minutes late." I say. "Yeah, I still have the scar." he laughs. I small smile grow, as I remember that day. "You should get some sleep. You need training tomorrow." he says getting off my bed, sitting on the floor. No don't do it, don't. "You can stay up here, I don't mind." I say. Damn it, I did it. "Okay." he says getting up on the bed. I lay down, as he does the same leaving the gun on the floor. He slips off his shoes, as I cover myself with the covers. "Night." he whispers. "Night." I say slowly closing my eyes, drifting into sleep. 

Luke's POV:

She has been feeling the same way, like when we were together. I wanted to ask her if she still had feelings for me, but I zoned out. Idiot. I lay the opposite way, not facing her. I just hope nothing bad happens to her. She doesn't deserve any of this, she has had enough. I wish I could do something, but if I do I will be fucking killed. I close my eyes, thinking on how to help.

Michael's POV:

I get out of the shower, my face completely clear. No face make up. I look at myself in the mirror, as I dry my body with the towel. I slip on my boxers, feeling tired. I look at myself in the mirror again, noticing my scars. Those damn scars. My fucking dad had to ruin everything. Everything. All those years, terrified of him. Watching him rape my mom in front of me. I couldn't take it anymore, so I chose this. My life right now. Being a crazy teenager, killing innocent people, not scared of crap. I sigh and walk out, heading to my room. I lock my door, heading to my bed. I lay on my bed, looking up at the cracked ceiling. I then reach under my pillow, a picture. I light a flame, looking at the picture. Two little kids, hugging each other. Me and Rebecca. As the flame goes out, I begin to feel tears spilling from my eyes, running down my cheeks. I begin to sob, everything coming back to me. The bad memories, playing like a movie. I grab my hand gun from under my bed. I point the gun on my right temple. Do it. Do it. I move the gun, pointing it inside my mouth. I am still crying, wanting to pull the trigger. I don't. I throw the gun on the floor, as I sob harder on my pillow.