Jerome's POV

~

It's nearly three in the morning, so quiet around, everyone probably sleeps. I'm about to go (what my mother calls) home. I really don't want to do this. Dragging my heels and kicking rocks, which I find on my way, I walk between the circus trailers.

I'm so fucking sleepy and angry. Why? So, trying to fall asleep, I couldn't take my mother moans and decided to go out. She's a whore and fucks circus guys every night since I can remember. Well, growing up like this makes me sick.

I get the trailer, which I live in, as I see a clown leaving. Grayson, I guess. Clowns... I hate them especially as my mother's lovers.

I open the door and give my mother a quick look. She stands by the sink (full of plates and glasses), with her smeary make up and tangled hair, doing the dishes, humming some dirty words (lately, I've been hearing only it) under her breath. Then, turns towards me.

"Welcome, somebody deigns to return home!" she notices sarcastically. I see she's kind of drunk too. "Well, I asked you for doing the fucking dishes, didn't I?! Why am I always to do everything in this house alone?!"

I feel I can't stand this anymore. I go out of the trailer to take a hatchet which lies on the ground next to the door. I know I won't be regretting it.

"Jerome! Come back here! Where the fuck are you go..." My mother opens her eyes wide at me. I bring the hatchet up and can't stop smiling.

"Well, mom, could you please be so kind and not be a fucking grumpy bitch?" I haul off, then hit her head with the hatchet. I repeat this action a few times. My hands and clothes are covered with blood. Finally, she's dead. I look around. Silence. Nobody's noticed me.
***
I drag the body to the thicket of trees behind the trailers. Later, I head for Mr. Cicero's trailer. I kinda like this blind old man and I don't know why but I think he may help me.

I knock and open the door, not waiting for a response. Mr. Cicero lies on the couch but he's not asleep. As he can hear me, he turns his face towards the door.

"Who's there?"

"Good... morning, Mr. Cicero. It's me," I say quickly, a huge smile on my lips.

"Jerome, my dear boy. What's wrong? You're coming here so early."

I grin, however he can't see that.

"I've... just killed my mother. With a hatchet. I hid her body nearby and I need your help."

Mr. Cicero doesn't say a word for a minute.

"Get yourself cleaned up in this trailer. And throw out your dirty clothes."

I do what he says. After that...

"What should I do with the hatchet?" I question.

"You know where are the Iron Sisters?"

"No idea."

"Did you hear about the Arkham Bridge?"

I shrug.

"Well..."

"So listen to me, Jerome..."
***
I'm still at the police station. The investigation is ongoing. I've been acting my part outstandingly; I even can say I truly surprise myself like I didn't expect. Sitting on the bench, I see a young policeman who walks over to me.

"Jerome Valeska! Decetive Gordon wants you to go to the interrogation room."

"Of course." I get up and follow him.
***
The guard closes the door behind me.

"Hi, Jerome. Please, take a sit," Gordon says and moves the chair back.

I look around this place, sit at the table, next to Mr. Cicero (why is he here, by the way?). There's also that young woman, a doctor (Gordon's girlfriend probably), with us.

"You know Mr. Cicero, from the show?"

"Yes, sir. Hello, Mr. Cicero," I greet him.

"Good evening, Jerome," He answers.

"Do you know why you're here?" Gordon asks.

I am fixated on him. My face says, "Of course, I do". I nod, concentrated.

"Did you find out who killed my mother?"

"You killed your mother, Jerome."

How did he... I decide to keep on lying.

"Me?" I ask with my eyes wide open.

"You killed her up on that hill, and Mr. Cicero let you clean up in his trailer. He told you to scratch the Satanist stuff on the hatchet, and throw it off the bridge."

"Sir, that's absurd, and offensive."

Gordon stays strong-minded.

"But it's the truth. What I don't know is why this man risked so much to help you. I think he's your father."

I snork.

"You don't know what you're talking about. My father was a sea captain."

Gordon glances at Mr. Cicero.

"Am I wrong, Mr. Cicero?"

The old man nodds.

"Yes."

"He was a sea captain. His name was Sven Carlson, and he died at sea."

"What was the name of his ship?" Gordon asks, furrowing his brows.

I roll my eyes.

"He worked on a lot of different ships."

"The one he went down in."

"She never said." I shake my head.

"We can do a blood test to prove I'm right. It takes only half an hour to get a foolproof result. Isn't that right, Dr. Thompkins?"

"That's right," she confirms.

"Save yourself a needle."

Mr. Cicero protests.

"I do hate needles. I'm sorry, Jerome."

"What are you talking about?" I look at him, confused.

"He's right. I am your father."

Wait, what?!

"No you're not! Why would you say that?" I almost scream.

It's just a bad joke, isn't it?!

"You must have suspected the truth..." I don't let him go on.

"You're not my father. My mother would never have..."

Then, he doesn't let me.

"Your mother was a cruel woman. She was often unkind to me. But she did once love me, in her way. And she loved you very much. That's why she gave you a better father."

It's kinda... sad. I feel like crying but... my mother, loving anybody? Hey, isn't it funny?! I crack a smile and look at that old man. Gordon and the doc give me a surprised look.

"My mother was a cold-hearted whore, who never loved anyone, and she'd never touch a pathetic old creep like you."

"All these years, do you think I was kind to you because I'm such a good man? If I wasn't your father... would I would have helped you as I have after what you did?"

Honestly, he's right... Oh, it's so hilarious!

"My father. Hmm, I'll be damned. Oh, that's very funny," I laugh and pretend I play the drums, imitating the characteristic sound."Looks like the bitch got me with the zinger in the end," I playfully notice.

"Why did you kill your mother, Jerome?"

I wave Gordon aside.

"Oh, you know how mothers are. She just... kept... pushing. And I'm like, "Fine, mom, be a whore. Be a drunken whore, even. But don't be a nagging drunken whore." You know?" I hope he understands. "Don't come yell at me to do the dishes... if you've been banging a clown in the next room!" I punch the table. "You know?" I add, then burst out laughing, taking a look at these people.

Don't they find it funny?

Hahaha, they really do, I believe it!

***

That's my another shot (about Jerome, this time). Honestly, what do you guys think? :D PS I only changed one thing, Jerome doesn't kill his mother on the hill, yet takes her body there. :D