1:47 am
It was so difficult to breathe. Every breath jagged and short. My heart pounded against my chest, threatening to escape with each rapid beat. I fought the urge to tremble, pouring every last ounce of energy into my escape route. This moment is all I have thought about for weeks. Despite never having seen the roads I knew which turns I had to make. Left out of the warehouse parking lot. Immediate right. Another right and it would be a straight shot towards the highway- or was it a left? Panic clouded my memory, closing in on my thoughts like the darkness beyond the van's headlights. The white stripes begin blur as my foot steadily increases pressure on the accelerator.
1:59 am
Relief washes over me as I merge onto the empty roadway. My skin continues to prickle. I'm not out yet. Skyscrapers and elaborate architecture flash past as I push the van to its limits. I'm immediately aware of where I am, of how close I am to home. To my father.
A month after I was taken, I'd seen a man on TV, his face wrought with grief, dark circles that rimmed sunken eyes. He had pleaded with the public- "bring my baby girl home." My stomach sank when I heard his name. Officer Thomas Burke. Dad. Four weeks had made the man who had raised me unrecognizable. His daughter will never come home.
The throbbing pain in my hand brings me back. My freedom at the expense of a few broken bones. It will all be for nothing if I don't get out of Gotham. I can see the bridge on the horizon when suddenly, I'm not the only car on the road.
2:34 am
Red and blue lights illuminate my rearview mirror. I'm filled with dread as I pull onto the shoulder. I send a quiet prayer up to the powers that be that the silhouette moving towards me doesn't recognize me as the woman from the missing persons flyer that still comes each day with the Gotham Gazette. I'm still coming up with a lie for the officer as I roll down the window.
"Hi sir," I start, as I pretend to shift through the trash on the passenger seat. "I'm so sorry- I don't think I can find my li-" The words catch in my throat, being replaced instead by the bile rising from my stomach.
Dark eyes, filled with rage and covered by messy green hair stare me down. I can't bear to meet them, instead I'm frozen with fear. My eyes follow the gruesome scars from one ear, across his mouth and to the other. His tongue flicks out from behind yellow teeth as he decides on what to say.
Tears well up in my eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, please, I don't know what I was thinking. I never should have-" I'm a blubbering mess, begging for his forgiveness.
A large, calloused hand reaches through the window and he shushes me, cradling my chin in his palm, caressing my cheek with his thumb. "Oh doll..." he almost croons.
I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. Anything to get into his good graces. A sigh of relief passes through my lips.
"You've pissed me off one too many times," he growls. The hand under my chin grabs my throat, robbing me of any air. The other grabs a fistful of my hair as he rips me through the open window.