And here is Chapter Ten! Woot! Chapter ten! And you guys are even luckier - I'm posting this for you on my BIRTHDAY!
So...a ton of you should definitely review. Tell me what you think, why you think it. What you like and dislike. Tell me everything! I'd love to hear it.
This chapter is dedicated to the Kiyomi half of Banana Rum, here on - she is awesome! You guys would seriously be getting absolutely nothing if it wasn't for her. She prods and pokes and rants at me when I don't write enough. Also, this is dedicated to everyone who has sent me their good birthday wishes through the mail and on facebook! You guys are the greatest friends ever!
CHAPTER TEN [home sweet home]
Joker's annoyance was evident as he shoved himself away from me with angry, precise movements cleverly disguised as floppy jumps of his limbs. Forget about the sheep, he looked like a wolf in hyena's clothing; a precision animal hiding under the skin of one that was still dangerous, but sloppy. In any case, it seemed that his henchmen were smarter than they looked, as they moved away from him like bouncing Skittles. The three of them exited the van as quickly as they possibly could, moving cautiously around their boss.
Joker and I weren't to be in the van together for much longer; he stalked after his men in a determinedly bad mood. I stared after him, at the swinging van doors he'd thrown open ferociously.
He'd left me in the van. Alone. He'd…forgotten me?
I could not believe my luck.
The metal of the bench was still cold against my legs as I listened to the door of our new residency open and close over and over again. Pressing my back against the wall of the van, I shivered and wondered if they really had forgotten me, and the new thought scared me. I definitely did not want this to be a giant trick that only brought more pain, and I was determined to be extremely cautious. I couldn't see anyone in the little black parking lot we'd pulled into though. But then again, my view of it was severely limited by the van I was enclosed in.
I couldn't hear anything either.
With the thought of escape burning in me, my limbs became steady and solid, no longer were they the quality of Jello. The sound of my heart pounding drummed high in my ears as I unfolded my legs and stood. My breath came in heavier, shallower gasps through my open mouth as I began to feel that familiar crawl of nervous adrenaline. It made me want to fall onto the wild chance of scrambling away as fast as I could without taking any precautions.
It sent a wave of reminiscence through me that made me feel like I was standing in front of my third grade class again, my project on my summer reading homework ("Holes," by Louis Sachar), taped to the whiteboard. I wanted to throw up.
I felt it tingling in the veins of the joints of my wrists, my knees and ankles, the inside of my elbows; it made my body feel itchy and hot and the temptation to run was strong. I felt it in the chambers of my heart, mixing with the oxygen in my blood that was telling me to go go go!
Instead, I tamped down on that sensation, and the control I tried to impose on my body made the muscles in my arms and legs clench and release convulsively. I knew though, that I couldn't treat the Joker like any other villain; he was a tricky sort, one warranting extra caution. I crept to the lip of the van and stopped, breathing in the open air, waiting till my arms stopped feeling so jittery. There was nothing I could do to stem the distressed manner in which I was breathing.
Keys. Keys. Where were the keys? If I could just find the keys, I could start the van up and drive away like hell was snapping at my back wheels.
I stood up and walked slowly to the front of the van. The two front seats were a mess of burger wrappers and soda cans. The only thing that was missing from the front was the key. My heart plummeted and I headed to the back doors again – it seemed my only chance now was to run on foot.
My hands were clumsy as I held onto the door and stepped down, one foot to the ground at a time. The 60's era paving of the parking lot meant leftover bits of gravel crunched beneath my toes. The sound of them grinding together seemed unnaturally loud even when presented as a counterbalance to the rhythmic beating heart in my chest.
I scrunched my toes against the ground and peered cautiously around one of the white van doors – the one farthest from the building. I couldn't outrun anyone coming from that far side, but I could escape anyone who approached from the direction of the building; I would have a few feet head start that way.
Luckily my eyes landed on nothing but empty space and the shiny sides of the van. My heart jumped up to nest in my throat as the thought of escape turned into the hope of escape again. I gripped the edge of the door and stepped slowly around it, pressing my body as close to the line of the structure as possible.
My fear waned as I stepped away from the van – one foot. Then the other. But the farther I went the more I dreaded being in plain sight, away from the cover of the vehicle. Out there, on that unforgiving lowland of black top, there would be nothing to hide me from anyone or anything. I could tell that would prove to be a greater tax on my nerves than stepping out of the van ever had been.
I spared a second to glance around, taking in again the smell of old asphalt, the sight of dust riding the wind bare inches from the ground surface, the feel of the sun on my skin. And so my trek across the parking lot began.
The longer I went undiscovered the freer I got, relaxing my could-spot-a-ladybug-at-twenty-paces visual sweeps of the area. I was so close I could taste it!
Although my captivity had been relatively short by the standards of others unnamed, I was sick of it – as any sane person would be. The damage had already been done.
I wanted to be the hell away from there, but one could never be too cautious. Once I got too far to be sheltered by the van, I was going to book it. But as long as I had that visual screen over me, I was going to keep it.
My beautiful solitude was not to last much longer though; I spun around as the building door slammed open. I didn't bother to see who had stormed out and instead dove back towards the van. All my previous feelings of semi-euphoria vanished as I hugged the far side of the van. Suddenly the few feet of ground previously covered seemed impossible to achieve once more.
The actions that were so courageous and beautiful to me before were now foolish and rebellious. Or maybe I just felt foolish for waiting so long to start out.
Yes, that was it.
As the other person came closer I could tell right away that it wasn't the Joker. The voice and the mannerisms weren't right, and the knowledge of their proximity didn't send a buzz of wariness down my spine. "He forgot her and it's my fault. It's always my shitting fault. Never his fault." It was Carl, and he was pissed.
I held my breath as he reached the van doors, sure he'd hear my ragged breathing if I didn't do so. The sound of him slamming the doors shut in anger after checking the van interior for me made me wince. The van shook with the force of his actions and the energy of it seemed to transfer to me. My body twitched with nerves.
"Son of a bitch!" Carl was busy exclaiming. "Where the hell is she?"
I swallowed. It would only be a matter of time before he discovered exactly where I had gone. A very short amount of time. I couldn't go around the van because someone in the building would see me and there was no way I could run without Carl seeing me now. That was, however, my only real option.
I was lifting one leg to run when Carl rounded the corner of the van. Rounded the corner of the van and found me, to be exact. It was one of those moments where two characters just stood and stared at each other – usually utilized in romantic comedies and horror flicks, so I supposed it was appropriate. The wind even caught my hair and played with it.
Martin Scorsese would have killed to stick a video camera in my face and do a slow pan of the parking lot.
Carl broke the magical cinematic spell by smirking. "Damn you're a stupid bitch! You just stayed here?"
In response, I booked it. I just turned on my heel and sprinted across the black top. I didn't stop when the gravel bruised the bottom of my feet or when Carl yelled what appeared to be his trademark statement, "Son of a bitch!" and started after me. I didn't glance back to see if he was much of a runner, or if his call had alerted the others.
Yellow parking spaces caught in the corners of my eyes as I ran, trying to distract me. Finally, I passed the last one and turned around the chain link fence that surrounded the neighboring property onto a desolate street. Even if I couldn't see anyone on the road who could help me, I had a better chance of escaping there than I did when in the same building as the Joker.
The longer I ran the more my feet started to hate me; bits of twigs and rocks and broken glass were abusing them harshly. Carl didn't have this problem though, as he was wearing shoes and soon my small head start was eaten up by his uninjured feet. His boots crunched over the debris I so artlessly tried to avoid. We were coming to another corner that I hoped would bring my to a more residential area in which there would be more chances for me to hop fences and hide behind shrubs. I knew that I looked like a looney toon running down the street in my dirty pajamas, but surely someone would help me.
"You can't run forever!" Carl snarled breathlessly at me, his voice sounding uncomfortably close. More than uneasy, I glanced over my shoulder and saw more than I wanted to. Carl. On what you could call my tail. His face was sweaty and red with exertion, but instead of lagging behind, he was closer than ever.
I put on one last burst of energy, striving for even greater speed and pushing my legs faster. It turned to be a fatal decision. The spurt of speed reduced the already tenuous accuracy of my feet before Carl lunged at me. If I wasn't being technical, I would say that it felt as if Carl's weight hurtling at me was what pushed me down. But let's be fair – the blame should go where it is deserved. The fall was due to both of us. I did kind of sort of trip. A little.
In any case, I fell to the ground with skin shredding force. My knees and elbows hit particularly hard as Carl crashed down on me. My head knocked the ground like it was a meat tenderizer and was probably what made me so docile as Carl picked himself up, shook off the fall, and started to haul me back to the Joker.
The walk back consisted entirely of my being half dragged, half carried by Carl, but that didn't make me relieved to see the little journey end with the Joker standing in front of the old dirty building that did not match the new pavement leading to it.
He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at me, eyebrow raised. "Tsk tsk tsk. What have we here?"
"Got her boss." Carl panted, reverting back to his previously hailed role as the inimitable Captain Obvious #2. All hint of his earlier, Joker-aimed resentment seemed to have faded away.
"I can see that."
My weary brain had stifled a small internal giggle as Carl's face soured. He was like a great pouting doggy, desperately seeking unreachable approval from his master, yet still able to grumble and whine about the loss when alone. Even his big, clumsy hands and feet fit the image.
I staggered as Carl finally let go of me, taking his hands off my arm as if my flesh was made of steel turned red hot at Joker's commanding, angry look. Dragging me along was a task taken over by the Joker, and his fingers were especially merciless in the deed. I staggered along after him, my limp body falling against and pulling away from his purple clad form in a haphazard, bacchanalian pattern.
The hallways he pulled me through were dim, dingy, and dirty, with flickering light bulbs on the ceiling and ripped, faded, really bad wallpaper on the walls. The carpet was grungy, matted shag; the doors were stripped of all paint. Fun designs like red smiley faces and "birdies" decorated the doors. I could tell it was an old motel by the room numbers on the walls, and it had definitely been taken over completely by the Joker's gang.
The door we stopped at was the only one so far without any fun designs on it. Joker stopped and proceeded to try to prop me up against the peeling wall. His efforts were somewhat wasted, as I was currently the consistency of pudding. If Joker found my state funny he didn't necessarily show it. He cupped my face in his hands and said, "Here's where we kill two birds with one stone cupcake."
END OF CHAPTER
Thank you so much for reviewing! Thank you PreciousRaymond, liVe-yOur-fAntasY, Midaria, and ChristinelovesPhantom! Thank you so much for reviewing!
So, the next chapter is the a doozy! I'm telling you all, please pay attention to the next chapter, because a lot really happens between Ellie and Joker, and it is extremely important to the story. Definitely read and review that one. Actually, do that to all the chapters. But if you don't review any chapter but one, do it for that one.
And yes, it is my birthday today, March 30th. You all know I'm in college so I'm between ages 18 and 22. Why don't you all guess how old I am? We'll see who is right.
Still plugging along at my two historical original novels. I have also have a finished fantasy story on called "The Serpent Connection" and I love for you all to read and review that too! I'm under the same pen name there. It would be a great birthday present. =)
Alright everyone - your tasks are to: guess my age, and tell me exactly when you wish for the next chapter to be out. And to review. REVIEW!