Living in Darkness- HIATUS/editing ch 19-25

Chapter Five

I wish I could say that the next morning I woke up in my own bed, having suffered but a terrible nightmare; however, that would’ve been too good to be true. A small miracle did happen while I was sleeping though. When I wake up that morning, I lift my arms and find my bonds have been cut. I stand up slowly from the chair and stretch my tight muscles. My face is still tender from the beating I got yesterday, but definitely not as swollen. I look down at my body and notice a few dark bruises that are bound to last a few days.

My stomach growls and it finally dawns on me that I haven’t eaten in a day, or a number of days, I’m not too sure. Slowly, I etch towards the door, pressing my ear against the wood. All is quiet on the other side. I grab the knob and jiggle it around, frowning when it won’t budge. I try yanking and then pushing on the door, but that too, is fruitless. Kicking it down would have been worth an attempt if I wasn’t so tired. Instead, I spin back around and face the room’s one window. As I had previously observed, it was small and would be a tight fit, but I was sure I could wriggle out. Plus, the sun was beating through; rays of hope beckoning me to fight my way out.

 I advance towards the window, picking up the chair on my way. I grasp the back of it, lifting it to my side. Then I swing with what force I have left, smashing the chair into the window. Glass sprays out, thankfully away from me. I have to break off the few remaining piece so they won’t cut into me, and then I climb up on the chair, and shimmy my way through the window frame. Outside, I carefully balance on the roof and look over the edge. It’s a two story house, but there is a sturdy looking drain pipe that reaches the ground. Off in the distance behind the house is a forest, the perfect place to hide. I edge my way to the side of the house and carefully test my weight on the storm drain. Then, flinging my legs over the side of the roof, I hang onto the drain for dear life and slide. For some reason, I thought I’d be able to land gracefully like in the movies; instead I landed on my butt. Oh well, what was one more bruise at this point? I sneak around the house and peer around the grounds. No one was in sight. Steadying myself and taking a few deep breaths, I face the forest.

“Ok Elena,” I say to myself, “you can do this. You’ll be free. Just run.” The fear of being caught is getting to me.  My feet feel heavy, like they are glued to the ground.

“Run, Elena. Damn it, run!” I whisper to myself, and then I take off, sprinting across the wide lawn towards the forest. Within a minute I make it and look behind me to make sure I’m not being followed. The coast is clear, I did it. Quickly, I make my way through the dense forest. About twenty minutes in, I begin to get weary; this is what happens when you are tied to a chair for a number of days. I look around and find a think bush with a little hollow part in the center. It’ll be perfect to take a nap in.

“If I can just get a few hours of sleep, I’ll be refreshed and ready for my trek back to Gotham,” I convince myself. Crawling under the bush, I curl up in a pile of leaves that provide some cushion from the ground. I’m just about drift to sleep when I hear a noise behind me, it sounds like a twig snapping. I throw my head around and scream in fright as I come face to face with the Joker.

            “Surprise!’ he growls as he easily wrestles me to the ground, sitting upon my legs so I’m pinned under his weight. “You should have seen your face when you thought you were free!” he chortles. “Now, what to do with you…”

“Get off me!” I scream. “Let me go!”

The Joker shakes his head, “No, no I don’t think so.” And with that he flips open a blade, throwing it from one hand to the next. “Elena, you obviously don’t understand the rules of this game. I know rules are made to be broken; however, breaking my rules will result in some serious consequences. Am I uh, making myself clear?”

“Fuck you!” I sneer. There’s noting I want more at this point wring this bastards neck.

The Joker smiles coyly at me, “Oh, we’ll have plenty of time to do that later, don’t you worry sweetheart.” He puts down his knife and cups my face in his hands like you would a lover. I frown at him, confused at what he’s doing. He slowly lowers his hands so they’re around my throat and begins to squeeze. I gasp for air, my arms shooting up to pry his iron grip off me.

“You see Elena¸ this is what happens when you cross me. I don’t have the uh, the time to go chasing you through the forest everyday. So, if you manage to escape again, I will kill you.”

Although I using all my willpower to suck air into my lungs, I manage to gasp out, “I don’t care.” The Joker doesn’t seem fazed by this, instead he just squeezes my throat tighter, and black spots begin to form on my vision.

“In that case,” he whispers softly, “the next time you escape, I’ll carve a pretty smile on your face. Would you like that?” My world’s turning slowly black and I can’t manage to say anything. The Joker obviously doesn’t like my lack of response and bellows “WOULD YOU?” I choke out a “no” and then my world goes dark.