FREAKS || Jerome Valeska?

The muffled sounds of the city were the first thing that alerted my body to wake up. A quiet ambiance to the room, but in the distance, I could make out the cars driving down the crowded roads, horns honking, and some people shouting as usual. A couple of sirens — Police and ambulance. The neighbors were fighting again about their relationship, and someone had their music on blast.

My eyelids fought against their weight; I was so tired. It took a moment for my vision to adjust to the darkness, and I was met with the familiar sight of my bedroom: metal frame ceilings and worn brick walls, shelves with books and some turned-off fairy lights, candles, art pieces, the desk I had to do homework on with a lamp, some trinkets, and plants. My cozy bedroom.

I woke up with a gut feeling... like something was very wrong, and soreness. Like I was living a life that was not mine. Misplaced. My eyebrows furrowed, trying to think, but my mind was a little fuzzy. Maybe it was just a nightmare I can't remember. Right?

The clock on the wall said eight-thirty.

My eyes widened, I'm so late.

I'm late to school again.

I jerked my arm to lift myself but was stopped by a searing sting. My gaze dropped down for inspection, and I panicked. An IV needle had been inserted into my veins. Now that I was awake, the smell of artificial oxygen was prominent, and I could feel the mask around my nose. My mind entered a frenzy, trying to recall whatever had happened in the last 24 hours.

A little snore beside me altered my focus — Edward. He lay beside me, looking like a complete wreck. Messy hair. Bags under his eyes, like he'd slept little to nothing, and they looked red and puffy. Had he cried? I frowned and went to speak to wake him up, but another excruciating pain burned my face, making my eyes water. I clamped my mouth shut, scrunching my nose, aching. I took the oxygen mask off with caution, fear pulsing through me, and raised my shaky hands to my sore cheeks. My heart sank. My fingers felt the rough stitching on both sides of my face, starting from the corners of my lips and running toward my ears.

Tears surfaced in my eyes. Memories clouded my mind as if they had broken through a dam and were now drowning me. There were things I didn't want to see. All the bad things I did. From the moment Andrew and Evelyn caused me to break to when I went to Blackgate and started that fire. Then, I landed myself in Arkham Asylum.

I remember loud rounds of laughter. The charisma. Perfectly styled ginger hair with those few strands that always fell over his forehead. His lips, the different ways they said I love you. Beautiful green eyes. My favorite eyes. They were like crystals; so sparkly, vibrant, full of life and chaos.

Theo Galavan.

The Maniax.

Pools of blood — None of it mine.

The Charity Gala.

A blood-tainted kiss.

Glasgow smile.

Jerome.

His name made my heart shatter into pieces and ache. Maybe I am too young to understand the meaning of love... but I loved him. Undeniably. No one can convince me otherwise. We met at Arkham Asylum and connected almost immediately, making trouble together. His personality, loud laughter, the smirks, the teasing, the way his eyes lit up... It was all gone now. Realizing that hurt more than the stitches sown on my face. There was a hollow, cold spot in my chest now.

An irresponsible decision came to mind, I pulled the IV right out of my veins. My eyes shut with pain. I ignored the blood that began trickling down and threw the covers off my body, sitting up. The bed creaked when I stood up.