Why so serious

Training

I had finally departed my bath wrapping a warm towel around my abdomen. Tears were still leaving my face as I walked. My arms were sore from the still freshly cut wounds. I didn't care. I was used to the pain anyways; with my father constantly inflicting pain onto himself I guess I began doing the same. I just never thought of resulting to this. I remember bruises crawling up to my neck would cover me for a few years from all of the stunts I did around the house.

I checked out the door makin sure that no one was home. ' still empty.' I thought as I walked into my bedroom.

I swiftly pulled on a pale colored bra, plain white tee-shirt and blue shorts. ' maybe I Should give makeup another try while they're gone...' I returned to the bathroom, taking hold of moms makeup bag. I grabbed a small mirror she normally used for the job, and got to work.

I pulled my long blonde hair into two pigtails and grabbed a sponge from the case. I squirted on a bit of her pale foundation and began rubbing it into my skin trying to blend it in. Looks good, I took the eyeliner and ran it along my upper lash line curving it at the end. Better, then the mascara last. I only placed it on the top lash... Just to make it look nice.

All of a sudden I heard the front door click. My heart pounded. I grabbed a wet towel quickly and tried to scrape the paint off of my face

I quickly ran down the stairs to greet my parents. " were you successful this time?" I said hopefully. " does this explain it?" Dad held up a bag full of money, I stared in awe. " which bank is it from!?" " the one batman wasn't nwear!" He and mom started laughing.

" when do I get to join you!?" I asked, " well you see first we must train you to become our secret weopon!" Mom said in her boston accent.

Oh dear... This won't end well...