Jerome Valeska Imagines

Maisie

This ones gonna be a little different, but I think you guys will like it.

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     I continued to carry the boxes into the empty house. My mother decided that we should leave my father and move to Gotham City, the city of crime. I thought it was a good idea, until we actually arrived. The city was a total nightmare. The buildings were falling apart, you couldn't go five minutes without hearing police sirens, and I saw at least 3 dead bodies on the way here.

     Of course, my mother and I moved to the darker side of the city, filled with druggies and criminals. "Maisie! Come help get the last few boxes!" My mother, Janet, yelled. I rolled my eyes. This woman would be the death of me. I ran outside to help my mother. She handed me the heaviest box out of all of them. "Thank you," she said as she walked away with nothing in her hands. She was a business woman, always on her phone. She was pretty basic, too. Short blonde hair and green eyes, skinny and tall; the perfect woman.

     I looked a lot like my mom, but had some good features from my dad, too. I had long blonde hair and I was pretty skinny like my mom, but I was fairly short, had blue eyes, and quite pale, like my dad. My dad wasn't a bad guy, they just had a bad marriage. It was whatever, I honestly didn't care anymore.

     I set the box on the floor and continued to look around the house. It was a pretty big house with three floors, 4 bathrooms, 3 bedrooms, a living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. I got the second biggest bedroom, my mom taking the biggest one. I walked in and froze at the doorway. I saw a boy, around my age, walking around my room.

     He had pale skin, ginger hair, and was quite tall. "Excuse me," I said, causing him to look at me. "What are you doing in my room?" I asked. He just looked at me and smiled, putting his hand out. "Jerome Valeska. And you are?" He asked, completely ignoring my question. I shook his hand anyway. "Maisie Port," I said, still confused. His smile grew. "What a pretty name." He turned around and started admiring my room again.

     "Ya know, it's really hard to find nice places like this is Gotham," he said. "This is nice?" I asked. He chuckled. "You're sassy. I like that." I finally asked him  another question. "Are you the neighbor?" I asked. He stopped for a second. "Something like that. So are ya new to Gotham?" He asked. I nodded. "Moved from Ohio." He nodded. "Nice. Growing up, I moved around all the time. California, Ohio, Montana, the whole country really."

     "Where do you live, Jerome?" I asked. "Around here," he said. So he doesn't like giving straight forward answers; good to know. "How old are you?" I asked. "Around 18," he said, still not looking at you. "Do you live with your parents?" I asked. He stopped and turned to me. "Parents are overrated. We don't need them. We can do just fine without them," he said, clearly getting angry. "I'll take that as a no," you said.

     "How long have you lived here?" I asked. He chuckled. "You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" You cocked your head to the side. "Well, when a strange man that I don't know is in my bedroom, I tend to ask questions," I sassed. He raised his eyebrows. "We know each other. I'm Jerome, you're Maisie," he said in a duh tone. "But if that's how you're gonna act, I'll leave," and with that he walked out of the door. You stood there for a moment before your mother called you down. "Maisie! The neighbors are here to meet you!" She shouted. I groaned and walked downstairs.

     I walked into the kitchen and saw my mom leaning against the island. There was a little old lady with gray hair in front of me, but her back was turned to me, so I didn't know what she looked like. "Maisie, this is our neighbor-" my mother started before her phone rang. "One second please," she said, excusing herself.

     The old lady and I watched her walkout of the room. Once she was gone, the lady turned to me. "So you must be Maisie," she said. I nodded. "Indeed I am." She smiled. She looked familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. "How are you liking Gotham?" She asked. I shrugged. "It's different," I said, trying not to be completely rude. "Different?" She asked. I nodded. "Back in Ohio, I didn't usually have weird men walking around my room," I said. She looked at me confused. "They didn't take anything?" She asked. I shook my head. "He just walked around my room then left," I said.

     "Then that was definitely not one of the men that live in the alley. They don't like to leave empty handed. What did he say his name was?" She asked. "Jerome Valeska," I said. Then I saw the look of pure horror on her face. "What is it?" I asked. "That's impossible," she mumbled. "How can this be?" Thats when I realized I never got her name. "What's your name?" I asked. She ignored me and continued to shake her head. "Miss?" I pushed on. She turned to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. "What did he look like?" She asked. I answered, quickly becoming scared.

     "Pale, ginger hair, tall, and a huge smile," I cried out. She let go and backed up. "No. You're lying. This is a prank," she began to cry. "What's wrong!?" I finally shouted. She looked up at me. "Jerome Valeska died 64 years ago," she said. Then, the same horror that filled her Y/E/C eyes rushed into mine...

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     I hope you guys got the ending, but if you didn't, just let me know and I'll explain it!

-Alice