Pain soared through me as I hung from the blood stained walls. My eyes were scarlet red and were stinging with agony from my endless tears of desperation. My cheek was cut open by a knife for fighting the kidnappers. My muscles felt weak and helpless. I was exhausted. Whoever this Batman was, he needed to hurry and rescue me, rescue all of us. I wonder if Bruce is thinking about me? Wondering where I am? And my Grandfather, he'd be so worried. I just wanted to go home. I've had already witnessed too much violence. The Joker had been shouted at by this young, poor boy so he cut a huge cut down his cheek, just like mine, but a lot of deeper. He was sick, twisted. His hair was curly and was greasy and light green and messy. His face was painted like a clown. Dark circles were painted around his eyes and lots of red lipstick was around his mouth, highlighting his mysterious scars. He wore a purple and green suit. His "followers" all had terrifying clown masks on.

Every so often they would take their boxes to plant around the city, all contained a threat. The Joker would come back looking smug and he would just laugh for ages, his laugh went straight through me. He had just come back from another trip when he walked towards me. I felt sick at the sight of him. "You having fun?" He smirked. I felt like spitting in his face but that would result in me getting killed. "What do you want with me?" I demanded, losing my patience with him. He laughed again. "Every party needs a pretty lady." He replied before forcing his lips on mine roughly, I couldn't fight him off. When he broke apart from me I spat in his face. "YOU'RE TWISTED!" I screamed, tears rolling down my cheeks. Anger replaced his smug expression. "Unlock her! Pretty lady needs a lesson." He yelled. My stomach turned, this was it, he was going to kill me. If only Bruce was here.