More Than Damaged

Chapter One

Chapter One- Willow

I pull the sheets up further on my body with a content sigh, I can't believe I'm turning fifteen tomorrow. How fast time flies is unbearable, I used to think that it moved too slow and everything was too surreal; now I can't even remember what I ate for breakfast. Time moves too fast for my brain to process anymore.
I turn to the wall and stare at the canvases full of life and imagination, I painted those. Staring at the one that always has intrigued me most brings a bit of joy to me, though this one I didn't paint; my mother did.
It has silhouetted trees on the sides and the middle is a white pathway with a boy far off in the distance. I've always wondered what it meant, it could mean so many things and yet I can't think of one. My phone buzzes and I already know who it is, of course.
One unread message. I unlock my phone and read it.

Babe: HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY! Let's go out tomorrow! Wanna?

My best friend, Lindsay.

Me: Sorry, I can't... sick.
Babe: Are you kidding me? Ugh fine. Well, whatever. We HAVE to hang out when ur better.
Me: Sounds like a plan my man.
Babe: 😙

With a small click I turn my phone off and stand up. I don't really have anything to do so I guess I'll read. I stand in front of my book shelf and grab one of the few books I haven't devoured with my eyes yet, seeing as out of the fifty books on my shelf I've read almost every one. The nice old lady at the bookshop nearby lets me take all the books that have been too worn out to keep. Laying back down I yawn and open my book. I only recently received this book and I heard it was a best seller a in the 1900s so it should be interesting. I get to the part where the boy bleached his hair and cuts it all off; not wanting to be found and recognized easily due to him being a greaser. I've already read more than half of the book when I hear a loud thud from downstairs.
What was that? I'm supposed to be alone. My mother is on a work trip and I'm not expecting visitors, it should be just me. I cautiously stand up and try to be as quiet as physically possible. I slip the pocket knife from my night stand into my pocket and stalk towards the door. I make sure to quietly open the squeaky door and tip-toe down the hallway. Slowly I sneak down the stairs so they don't squeak or groan. For reassurance, I flip open my knife and peek around the corner of the wall once I reach the bottom floor. My breath catches in my throat when I spot a figure in the kitchen. I don't recognize him by his body shape or clothes, and there's no way this is a friend pulling a prank. He's tall and muscular but his height makes him look lean, and I can only see him from behind.
He has on a long purple jacket and grey sweats, his hair is green and from what I can tell he is extremely pale white. He looks like a circus performer. I nod to myself to reassure myself again and slowly back away to the front door. My phone is upstairs and I won't dare try going back up those stairs. I grip the cold door knob and unlock it, pushing it open it and inwardly curse when it creaks. I peek my head around the corner but quickly straighten myself when I see him turn around. The only way out of this is not the sneaky path, I race out the door and run down the large driveway. When did it get dark so fast?!
Loud footsteps trail behind me as I run. Holy shit he's following me! I turn around and squeal when I see who's chasing me. He's, terrifying... He has a chilling grin and intimidatingly large muscles which hold un-settling tattoos. The danger of the situation truly dawns on me and I turn around for only a few seconds, aiming, and chucking my knife at him.
It twirls and spins until it lands in his shoulder with a sound that makes me feel the need to puke. A small frown pulls at his lips as he pauses his chase but he simply chuckles and pulls it out of his shoulder as if it was merely a splinter. I didn't realize how tall he actually is until just now but it's unreal, and how is he so calm? With his long legs he quickly catches up to me with no problem at all. There's no way I'll survive if I don't run faster, but in my attempt I stumble forwards slightly and trip over my own feet once I reach the end of the driveway. And me being me, even in a deadly situation I fall down.
My ankle... it's red and is already bruising and swelling... when I look up I find myself stuck under the gaze of the terrifying man.
"Why are you running away? All I wanted to do was say hi." His grin widens.
"Please don't hurt me!" I hold my arms protectively in front of my face as tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
"And why would I do that doll face?" If he's not killing me he probably has sexual motives. I do not want to die in my driveway, I attempt to struggle to my feet for a quick escape; that is if my ankle will even allow  it. "I'll scream and notify everyone in Gotham."
"No you won't. Because you know no one will hear you from here." I limp closer to him and nod, "That is true but maybe the police will soon."
I knee him in the groin, he groans and falls to his knees with a thud. I limp past him and inside the house. I run in and crawl up the stairs using my arms as my driving muscle. I enter my room and lock the door faster than I've ever moved in my life. I snatch my phone off of my bed and dial the police.
"Gotham Police, what's your emergency?"
I keep my voice quiet so the man won't hear me, so I whisper yell.
"There's an insane shit that I'm sure is supposed to be in the Arkham Asylum in my home! His name is... Joker I think! I saw a picture of him on tv! He's here, I need help!"
"Right away m'am. Stay on the line with me until they arrive." He sounds worried, making me worry more than I already am.
"Yeah... yeah..." I mumble quietly to the phone but more for myself.
I listen for any sounds, and that's when I hear a taunting voice ready to hunt.
"Ooh Willow~ Are we playing a game of hide and seek?" He drags out every syllable, how does he know my name?
I hold my breath at the sound of his voice.
"Where are you Willow? I'm going to find you~" he coos evilly.
Footsteps prowl up the stairs.
Please don't find me...
There's loud banging on other doors as footsteps become more near. I sit in the corner of my room, opposite of the door. Silently, I lay down and look under said door. There are two feet there and I gulp. There's loud banging on my bedroom door.
"I think you're in here~"
The door knob shakes violently and I hear an annoyed grunt.
"Open the door! It'll be easier that way!"
I don't move and the shaking stops. And in a dark and menacing voice he demands, "Open the door."
On the other line the man says, "Do NOT do anything he says to."
"WILLOW. OPEN THE DOOR."
I turn around and open the window while still seated, push the screen out and that's when I hear an even louder bang on the door than before. It repeats itself over and over. I start climbing out carefully to not damage my ankle more than it is.
I scream and my phone drops out of my hand onto the ground two stories down when I feel two large cold hands grip my waist. I feel a hot breath on the back of my neck and in an unnerving cold voice he whispers,
"Relax, because you'll be scared later."