On the day I met him I was walking to my bus stop. This statement would sound ordinary - and even romantic given little context or given a normal context at all. The context of this particular meeting was not so.

In the morning of that day I had left the house, ignoring the silence that accompanied me there. I vaguely responded with a grunt at my mother's agitated claim that, "If you miss this test, you'll miss the front teeth in your head!". Home life was truly spectacular. As I left the house, I took out a cigarette, the habit that I had had since beginning school. As I lit it and breathed in, I allowed unhealthy smoke to wash over my lungs, almost praying it would do damage. Thankfully, my bus stop wasn't very far away, a few blocks from my own home. It was always desolate and as I walked over many manicured front lawns to reach it, that desolation had not changed. It always, in my opinion, had looked rather odd in an area such as mine. Whenever it was occupied, it was generally by a group of girls a year younger than me, who sniffed scornfully at my usage of cigarettes. They did it as if they feared the scent of a "degenerate" would turn them into one. I always had a quiet laugh at them, as if half of them wouldn't be into heavy drugs by the time they got out of school. Surprisingly, especially rich kids got into them after a while.

As I stood at the pole, glancing at my pale arm becoming red by the minute, I waited for the bus to arrive. As I checked the time, the bus appeared to be running late which was odd. Even the bus companies around here worked to a tight schedule. I had almost given up hope of it arriving after ten minutes, flinching angrily at the idea of my mother's promised beating. I didn't want to have to go back home and have that done to me just because of a late fucking bus, I didn't even want to go back home. To my heart's content, I saw a glimpse of a large unmistakable school bus driving over the hill towards me. Frustratinglfuy, however, the bus seemed to not have any idea of stopping soon as it was speeding way over the limit. My anger was bursting at this point, my blood practically boiling. I didn't want to deal with this. I just wanted to get to school and take the fucking French test. Without a thought in my brain, I began to step forward onto the road, one step then two. Eventually I was well within its path, the yellow vehicle coming towards me at a startling rate. My heart was hammering and I could feel my stomach drop as I thought the bus wasn't going to stop, was this going to be the end? A wave of both relief and disappointment washed over me as I heard the loud screeching of breaks as the nose of the bus came towards me.

The entire vehicle only stopped mere metres before me. I stood there for a moment, breathing in a sigh of shock. I could feel my body's reaction of shaking. I looked up to the driver's window and to my complete surprise, a clown mask greeted me. It was one you could find in an odd party store downtown. Before I could even begin to comprehend just why a clown was staring back at me from my school bus, I noticed him move and the hissing of doors from the bus sound. My entire body screamed at me to run as he came towards me, but I could only stand still as his hands grabbed me. My brain was too slow for me to handle. He began dragging me to the bus. I heard the man groan behind me,

"If I'm late, the Joker guy's gonna kill me." Later I would find this ironic, because he was going to be killed either way.

That's when I began to fight back, kicking and trying to grab onto anything that I could. It was no use, though. It seemed this man knew a great deal of keeping someone in a headlock. I could feel his forearm pressing into my throat as he dragged me up into the bus, the heels of my boots hitting the back of the steps. I felt for sure I would pass out, the crushing of my windpipe was awful and felt as if it would leave bruises if I were to survive this. In my relief, the man threw me onto the length of hard flooring on the bus, my elbows hitting it loudly.

"OW!" I groaned loudly, tears welling involuntarily in my eyes.

I began to crawl to the back of the bus, what the fuck was a clown doing driving the bus an where was he taking me!? Was he insane? He had mentioned the Joker...what was he talking about? The card out of the deck!? I groaned again as I was sure from the pain that my knee had been hurt in his throwing. My back was turned from the guy but my ears work just fine and I heard him come up behind me to grab my arms from underneath me, causing further strain on my elbows. I felt thin rope etch into the skin of my wrists, rubbing against them irritably.

"Wait till the robbery's over, I'm gonna have some fun with you." The man's comment sent chills down my spine, even further more due to the fact that I knew he would be looking at me with a clown mask behind me.

I clenched my teeth at his comment, though. How dare he think he was going to do whatever he likes with me. For all I knew he had raped plenty of girls and tied them up like this.

"That's not going to happen." I managed to growl out, even though I was scared at the future promised event unfolding.

I heard the guy scoff and walk away, then the engine started. I cringed at what could happen. He had mentioned a robbery and I attempted to occupy my mind with where exactly a robbery would take place. If he was robbing a bank why would he steal a school-bus? My heart was hammering at that point. In an adrenaline rushed frenzy I attempted to pull my wrists - painfully - out of the rope tied around them. It only caused further pain and I hissed as I felt my skin breaking against it. I remained in the bus with the guy snarking up occasional comments with me ignoring each and everyone of them. I didn't know how long it had been, but the bumps and varied screeching of breaks told me we'd reached the inner city. The shock was getting to me and I was beginning to feel tired, almost as tired as I would be if I were in the French test. I had had my eyes closed for minutes until a huge impact caused the bus to shake. I opened my eyes to crumbles of walls around the windows of the bus. Like a fish, I flipped over and slumped up against the one of the back right seats. I looked frantically at the man as he got out of his seat, walking towards me. I wiggled between two seats, my back against the bus's wall. I felt myself shaking again, but his shoes walked right past me and opened the back of the bus. My fingernails gripped into the leather seats, veins on the seat becoming stretched. I didn't think I'd ever felt this afraid or, secretly, this excited. My heart wouldn't stop bursting out of my chest and I focused on the seats opposite me.

I half-jumped off of the floor as I heard the sound of a gun being fired, the familiar sound ringing in my ears. The clown didn't have a gun on him did he!? Certainly not one that sounded like that. I clutched my ears, my eyes wide. I almost wished to be back at home getting yelled at or sitting in the terrible silence. Suddenly, the rear door was slammed closed and I held my breath. I heard a man growling, it was an odd and high pitched noise. It came from deep within his chest and up to his throat. This wasn't the same man. He took small steps, or at least I believed he did in anticipation. His shoes came directly in front of me but they no longer moved forward. In one sudden and swift moment his shoes spun towards my direction. The dread I felt in that moment was more than I had ever experienced, an icy feeling washing down to my stomach from my chest. I resisted the urge to cry, I resisted the urge to flee from this. I didn't look up. I could hear his heavy breathing though, it was odd and full of excitement. I cringed, frozen in place, as his knees came into place infront of his shoes. He was crouching, almost at my level, but just slightly above. His entire person leaned in, his presence was warm but I knew how cold this situation really was. I suddenly recieved a waft of his breath, it was rancid. It was nothing compared to the boys at school who forgot to brush their teeth four times a week. No. No this was the scent of decay and infection. I could smell his 'natural' scent too, now. It was a mixture of tobacco, smoke, blood and a faint musk scent that would be his own. It smelt of danger. He was danger.

I continued to breathe unevenly, trying my best to remain silent even though I had been found.

"You're not part of this. No, no, no. Get up." The voice that accompanied him was nasally, with different pitches. It crept into my soul and stayed there.

I was expecting to be killed there and then. His request was confusing to me. He'd just presumably killed the bus driver. What was to say he wouldn't kill me? I could could hardly think what with my head pounding as loud as my heart. I stared at his pants still, too afraid to look up.

"W-what?"

My questioning was met with a growl of disappointment and a gloved hand circling my arm, pulling me up from my position painfully. The rubbing of the leather provided an odd sensation. His scent overpowered me as he clung me to his body as he walked towards the rear doors. I noticed that he was much taller than me. I realised he was about to throw me out of the bus when I stupidly chose to speak.

"Well, Batman's gonna just love this."

It was supposed to be an inner thought, it really was. My nervousness was shot to pieces. At my remark I felt him stop suddenly and his chest began to rumble against my ear. It took me a few minutes to process the fact that he was laughing. For what? I had no idea.

Later I would know. Later that reply would be custom. Later, I wouldn't be so naive.

The uneasy feeling of dread settled into my stomach as he continued to chuckle silently. I felt his grip against my skin tighten, the leather making an odd noise. One hand came to the back of my head, tugging on my hair so I looked up at his face. This was the turning point of my fear. This was the moment where an invisible bucket of ice was washed into my veins.

The man's face was painted in white greasepaint. Now, I would come to learn that most people focused on one-or two, particularly prominent features on his face when they first saw him. For me, it wasn't his scars that unnerved me or what I even saw first. It was his eyes. Black orbs peered at me from being surrounded by dark greasepaint. They swam in oceans of insanity and sanity. They seemed to be ticking like a clock. From my distance, I couldn't make out his iris's from his pupils. They were simply filled with something I was unaccustomed to. These would always remain the focal point of my fear when he began descending. His eyes unnerved me after moments of staring back at my own, so I found myself gazing down at his mouth. It was painted in a deep blue-based red. From his mouth, uneven and puckered scars raised up into a smile. They were like small hills and crevices against his smooth, painted skin. He only chose to highlight them more with red. I glanced at them. There was an inexplainable urge to touch them. My fingertips tingled. I was all too aware of his staring though and this stopped me. So I chose to gaze down at his raised mouth.

Suddenly, I was hoisted down the alley of the bus onto my back. The impact of the hard surface against my body surely left bruises and I began to cry as I laid there, still as I could be. Ha, as if that would make me invisible. My heart pounded in my chest and I covered my eyes with my fists. Who was he?

"Aw, don't break so easy doll. We're, uh, just getting starte-d." His words lowered gradually as he began his statement. They promised something I didn't want to think about.

I froze everything but my breathing as his form shadowed over me, both shoes capturing me underneath him. I dared to look up at him. He was a nightmare. He looked down at me with his head tilted. The casting shadows upon his face made his already dark eyes look darker accompanied by the black paint. I noticed the wrinkles that accumulated onto his forehead. This frightened me because it meant that he was indeed human. Sweat beaded off of his face and hairline, creating crevices amongst the white greasepaint. Droplets clung to the strands of his hair and fell to splatter against my face and run down my neck. The sensation made me curl inwardly. He continued to stare down at me and I stared up at him, all too aware I was in a vulnerable position. His eyes seemed to think of a million aspects a second. It was as if he was battling with himself. His eyes briefly flickered up to the ceiling and I noticed his yellow teeth brushed against his bottom lip and then proceeded to chew his scars from the inside. This was his thoughtful face, I would later come to be familiar with. He glanced down after a few moments, a cold and uncaring look had settled into his eyes. There was also something there, though.

He pointed down at me and shook his gloved finger.

"Youuuu. You're coming with me-ah.."

No. I sure as hell wasn't. My eyes briefly flickered to the rear bus doors where I should have been silent before. In one quick and daring motion I used my hands to slide my body underneath him. My hand collided with his shoe and I used that to push me up behind him. My heart was racing. I managed to take 2 running steps. Was I actually going to escape him? My thoughts were terrifyingly answered as I felt his long arms encircle my waist. Quickly, one arm was removed and came to place on my neck. The leather sent shivers all over my chest. Apart from the leather, I could feel something cold. I felt his chest huffing against my back. I froze as I felt his heartbeat beating rapidly against me. He was human after all. I felt his chin collide roughly with the top of my head. I could hear my own breathing and feel my pounding heartbeat. Suddenly, I heard a metal click coming from underneath my chin. My free hand came up to hold the man's wrist. The skin wasn't covered by leather or clothing. It was warm. It had blood rushing through it. I couldn't bring myself to try to move his arm. I knew it would be a feeble attempt. I began to feel a pressure against my neck. It was then that I realised he held a knife.

"I-I won't.. I won't do it again. Please." My statement was met with absolute silence.

After a few moments, another click was heard and the pressure was gone. He had retracted the knife! The arms wrapped around me loosened considerably and eventually were gone. He remained behind me though. The warmth of his presence was unnerving.

"..Good-ah. You learn quick-ly." His voice was quieter now. It held a deep grumble in it.

I remained still. I remained silent. I clenched my fists against my hips, my neck slightly hunched over. The horrible irony was I could see the rear doors. Could I make it? Probably not. His sudden clapping caused me to jump out of my skin.

"Time to go!"

I spun around as I watched the estranged man skip down the aisle of the bus. His leather fingers briefly touched the seats and his greasy locks bounced. This couldn't actually be happening. I watched as he seated himself in the driver's seat. As he began to operate my school bus, I didn't even dare dwell on how he knew to. My last chance of escape was cut short as we speedily left the bank, blending into other school buses right on time. I stood in the middle of the aisle for what felt like a lifetime. I watched as hundreds of people in cars paid no attention to me. I was just another kid in a school bus. I sat down in a seat nearby, frightened as I was, I was also hyper aware of the pain in my back from when he threw me down. It ached against the seat but I paid it no mind.

My focus was locked on the cold, black eyes that peered at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes were almost always connected with mine. The only time it wavered was to glance briefly at the road or as we encountered a rather large bump. His face would move only slightly at the bumps whereas my entire body would jump out of the seat. His eyes always found a way of settling back to my own.

The man began to hum loudly, tapping his fingers against the wheel. At first I didn't recognise the tune. Maybe because if I did, it would remain to be one of the most haunting aspects of this entire thing. Something out of a horror movie.

The wheels on the bus go round and round...

This was only the beginning.