I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

I could feel the blood rocketing through my veins,

And I could feel the premature devastation, and I could see the images of one of my friends lying dead in the middle of the Debate room floor, and the others were on their way to being murdered…

We were silent as we flew up the stairs towards the Debate room. Anthony took the lead, me in second, and Riley took up the rear. We rounded the top of the stairs, and turned to go into the hallway. I could feel my eyes beginning to water, probably ruining my eyeliner, and the last of my hair clips that hadn't fallen out, were now becoming disconnected, and jabbing into my neck as my hair swung around behind me. We couldn't seem to get there fast enough.

The door was in sight, before I knew it; we were bursting through the door.

The scene I saw would be burned into my memory forever.

Six clowns were restraining Amy, Holly, and Ryan. Ryan had one on each arm, and was still bucking and resisting furiously; Holly was lying on the ground with one clown's hand wrapped in her hair. Amy had one clown holding both of her arms behind her back with one of his hands, and with the other hand, he was taking out his gun in preparation to point it at her. The other two were pointing guns at the three of them haphazardly, trying to keep the three of them in order.

"AUGH!" I yelled, half out of rage, half out of horror. The three of us drew closer together, and none of us made a move as six guns suddenly pointed in our direction. We were smart enough to figure out that attacking six armed clowns was not the brightest idea. The boys suddenly disappeared from behind me, as they were both wrestled to the ground by the other two clowns. I couldn't see where they came from, nor did I care. They're so fast! I prepared myself for attack, but no clown came to grab me. I reached over to a clown to try and get his grab off of Anthony, but he elbowed me with such force, that I flew onto the ground. The struggle was broken by a small chuckle from a dark corner of the room; I heard a voice that would haunt me for the rest of my life. It was smooth, yet rough like the wild ocean, crisp and clear, yet warbled, and unstable.

"Now, don't shoot them…I just wanna…see how they'll…react." I felt my heart skip a beat. It was the same voice that attacked the Prom, and the same voice I've been hearing in all of the hostage tapes sent into GCN, threatening to kill the Batman, and cause Anarchy throughout Gotham…it was the Joker.

Slowly, his foot arose from the darkness of the corner, then his leg, and then the green of his vest shone brightly against the dull atmosphere around us. Soon, I saw his luminescent white paint glow as he completely stepped into the dull light around us. His eyes were like two black holes, staring back at me, and I could feel them raking up and down my body. I stepped backwards once more, skeptical and afraid of what he was going to do. As I took a step backwards, he took one forward at the same exact time. I leaned slightly to the side, and he mirrored my movement.

Is he mocking me?

I then stumbled backwards on my dress as I tried to take one more step backwards, and I rammed right into a bookshelf. I closed my eyes in a silent cry of pain, and as soon as I opened them to look back at this bizarre man, he was one foot in front of me, with his face leaning in towards mine. I wanted to yelp in fear, but the sound was caught in my throat.

"Now, don't be afraid of little old me. That's not what you should be afraid of." He emphasized certain words, making his words more meaningful and frightening. He reminded me of a young child who was trying to speak outside of their vocabulary in order to impress an adult, but this child knew exactly what he was talking about, and how to say things in a certain way to make someone quiver with fear.

He smelled of something putrid, like week-old coffee, or like he'd fallen into a septic tank. But he also smelled sweet, but not like candy-sugar sweet, but almost like a sweet that was so sweet that it tickled your nose, and made you want to sneeze. Almost like marijuana, and the intoxication level was about the same as marijuana too.

He leaned closer to me, and I put one of my hands on his vest, trying to push him away, or at least, create a little bit of space between us, and my other hand found one of the shelves behind me. He licked his lips once…twice…and three times before speaking again. He brushed his filthy, half-dyed hair out of his eyes, and then put his hand in his pocket.

"Ya know…I could've easily killed one of you the entire time you were-ah…sneaking down there." He motioned lazily with his free hand towards the Commons. I tried to keep my eyes from widening, but he was probably used to the signs of fear; my pupils, I'm sure, had already dilated, showing I was afraid.

"You mean you-" I started, but he cut me off.

"Yeah, I knew it was you. I've been watching you all ev-en-ing. He separated his words, tapping my shoulder with his hand every time he broke a syllable. He took his other hand out of his coat pocket, and clicked open a knife. I tried to shrink back, but the knife was too quick. He had it underneath my chin in less than a heartbeat.

"You could make this easier for every-one if you would just, no-t," he popped his 't', "struggle. You see, I don't think any of their parents," he motioned to them with his head, "Would like to see the body of their beloved teenager on the evening news. And believe me…that can be so easily arranged." He closed his eyes slowly and wetted the corners of his mouth with his tongue. While his eyes were closed, I had a chance to study his face without being entrapped by his eyes. I could see all of the irregularities in his paint. The lines, the smudges, the missed spots, but I could also see the outlines of his scars so perfectly, they didn't look like accidents, but rather, perfectly sculpted works. He opened his eyes quickly, and my eyes flashed to his. He leaned away from me, but still had the knife to my chin. He lifted his head, giving me a skeptical look that rolled off of his nose and chin.

"What do you want from me?" I whispered. I clutched one of the shelves behind me tighter, as the sweat from my hands was making it harder to hold onto. My other hand was still on his vest.

"Oh, nothing…just listen to my every word and command. You can choose to obey them if you'd like, but just know, that if you choose no-t to…you're putting you and your friends in, ah, danger." He paused and sucked a breath through his teeth.

"So," I prayed that now was the right moment to speak. "What do you want me to do right now?" I emphasized the 'now' because I was sick of playing his little theatrical waiting games. He narrowed his eyes and looked me straight in the eyes. Then he leaned his head back towards my face. I shrunk towards the floor. He removed the knife from my chin and just held it between two of his gloved fingers. I diverted my eyes from his…he was just so close…

"Hey." He said, tapping my cheek lightly. "Look at me." He smacked his lips once, and I kept my eyes on the floor. "Look at me!" He grabbed my chin roughly, and forced it upwards until our eyes met. I felt tears prick my eyes, and I was trying my best to not let them spill over. Nothing would be more embarrassing than crying in front of the Joker. I didn't want him to have the satisfaction.

He motioned with his knife hand, and did the little 'naughty' sign with the index finger. "Wha-t, did we just talk about? Listening to every command?!" His voice was suddenly harsh and demonic, and I heard a sob escape from my mouth. I heard a rustle on the far side of the room, and then a grunt. I'm sure nobody could see me, because the Joker had broad enough shoulders, and a tall enough figure that he eclipsed me completely.

"Sorry." I muttered through my tears. They had begun to spill over, and I could feel one of them slowly trickling down my cheek and towards my chin. I decided to concentrate on the color of his eyes to try and take off some of the intensity of the situation. His eyes were a gorgeous chocolate-brown with a dull hint of mud. They didn't sparkle, which added to the fierceness of his entire persona. My focus was suddenly forced out of his eyes when I felt a hand on my hips, feeling up my side, slightly brushing one of my breasts. I closed my eyes, wishing it would end. I heard him give a sound of approval.

"Hmm…If I get bored, you and I could have a little bit of fun." He sucked his teeth again. "Oh yeah…fun…" They way he paused scared me. His hand disappeared off of my side, and I could hear the sound of someone moving. I felt the heat of his body disappear, and when I opened my eyes, he was walking away from me, and towards Ryan. I put my hands by my mouth as a reflex, and edged a little bit forward to see what he was going to do.

"Say there," he started. "Seems that you got hit by one of my guys' guns." Ryan grimaced as the Joker leaned down to touch his leg. The Joker suddenly put his hand in his coat, making Ryan jump in surprise, and withdrew a small bottle and a syringe. He put the syringe in the bottle, and pulled the top of the syringe up, causing it to fill with the substance inside of the jar.

"Anti-venin." I said across the room. The Joker paused and looked at me over his shoulder. Then he returned to what he was doing.

"Smart thinking." He popped the't' again. "You probably figured that I don't want you children dead…yet." We were all quiet apart from an occasional whimper from one of the girls as he injected the needle into Ryan's leg. Ryan let out a quiet cry of pain, and he began breathing quickly. Then he closed his eyes, and fell into unconsciousness.

"What-?" I cut off my sentence when the Joker spun around to look at me. I stepped back into the bookcase again. He walked towards me, breathing in rhythm with his steps. When he arrived at me, I diverted my eyes to the floor once more. I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

He patted my cheek again, but harder this time. "Naughty." Is all that he said. "To the holding room." The room was alive in seconds, and he strode away from me quickly, leaving the room. I clutched my heart, and fell to my knees. I didn't get to rest on them long, before I was hoisted to my feet, and forced out of the Debate room.