Natalie's body hurt. She could feel every bruise and cut on her pale, sensitive she had gained from her last beating from her father. The aching and stinging sensations followed her through out the day, reminding her of what waited for her when she returned home for the night. This is why she spent every hour she could after school at the coffee shop around the corner 'doing homework', even though that was finished about an hour ago. Of course, she would eventually have to return home to her father. The beating would only get worst if she didn't and she would be accused of whoring around just like her mother.
You see, her father wasn't always a horrible man. He was actually quite loving at one point in her life. He used to kiss her on her youthful, ten year old cheeks everyday and tell her how much he loved his baby girl with all his heart. But that was the past, before her mom slept with some poor bastard from the slums of Gotham. After that her father kicked her mother out and filed for a divorce and she hasn't seen her since. That was approximately six or seven years ago. To him she was no longer his baby girl that he loved with all his heart, but instead some mistake that only served as a reminder of his cold-hearted whore of an ex wife.
Natalie missed those days. The days when her father would have the maids make her the most delicious chocolate chip pancakes on Saturday morning before watching Looney Toons with her. The days when he would kiss her knee better after scrapping it on the pavement and would even help her clean it up. Those days were her last memories of being happy.
Now she just had to prance around like everything was perfect in her world, regardless of the fact that it wasn't. To the rest of the world money seemed to fix anything, even her broken family. Well, that's what happens when your father is one of the most famous politicians in Gotham. She has to spend her time at pointless balls and charity events just for publicity. It was her job to tell the world about how great her father was, all hell would break loose if she didn't say the correct lines she was told.
She was lonely most of the time as well now a days. Besides her father and the maids who work at her home, she doesn't have much interaction with others. It's that she doesn't want to make friends, its just that it's pretty hard to keep a stable relationship with anyone if your constantly trying to hide the fact that your father beats you in his spare time. So she gave up on making friends at the young age of twelve.
Her life seemed to become a horrible, endless cycle. She went to school hiding the bruises under her uniform and makeup. School life wasn't that bad for her I guess you could say; many people didn't attempt to talk to her or make fun of her to her face, but she always heard the whispers about what ever rumors they had come up with about her that week. Then she was forced to go home to her father who often beat her for small, insignificant reasons. Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to just end it all, but something inside her kept her alive, and she wasn't entirely sure what it was either.
As she sat drinking her coffee, she contemplated this. Wasn't it suppose be so much easier to just be dead? What was driving her to continue on like this? Turning toward the window she watched as the rain pelted down on the city. Great, she was going to have to walk home in that in about five minutes if she wanted to get home on time.
Sighing heavily she watched as people ran up and down the streets trying to get to their destinations. Some with rain coats and some toughing it out with an umbrella that wasn't really doing any good in this excessively hard rain. But that was when she noticed something. Across the street a man stood in a black rain coat. He seemed decently tall and most of his features were covered up by the hood of his jacket covering his face.
Quickly looking away feeling awkward, she decided it was probably smart if she started her adventure home before the rain could get possibly any worst. She stood up from the stool she was perched on and straightened her uniform, putting on her coat, and threw away her coffee cup. As she walked outside feeling the icy, resilient rain hitting her skin, she could've sworn she could hear someone laughing. Looking back the man was still staring at her, only now his shoulders were trembling almost as if he was the one laughing. Quickly, without looking back this time, she pushed her way through the rain on her way home.
~
He didn't really know what it was about her. Granted, she was drop dead gorgeous in his eyes. Anyone could tell that much with her soft, long blond hair that flowed down to her waist like silk and beautifully translucent skin that had a slight tinge rosiness to it. She represented an angel in his eyes, being beautiful and soft as she was. But she had a certain quality about her that attracted him like no other, but he really couldn't pin point exactly what it was.
He wasn't sure if it was her show stopping beauty, though he's killed beautiful girls before, or something more about her. He felt like she would be able to understand him better than anyone else ever had. Though that was a completely ridiculous notion considering no 'sane' person would ever be able to understand anything about him. At least none have been able to yet.
Another thing that confused him was that she was shy and quiet which was nothing like what usually caught his interest before. He himself was loud, charismatic, and constantly laughing all of the time, which was what made this ironic to him. But something gave him the feeling that that wasn't truly who she was, just a cover that had to be peeled off like a mask. He had a feeling she was much more interesting than she herself was letting on. But one thing he was sure of was that she was his. And he was going to find out what it was about her that he seemed to be attracted to so much.
"Hello gorgeous, my names Jerome," he said to himself with a gleeful, comedic smile.