Jokes // m.c

Becca's POV:

"Where the fuck are you.?" I hear my dad yell. His heavy footsteps going up the stairs. I pull my knees to my chest, terrified. "Get your ass out so I can see you." I he yells, near my doorway. At this point I don't know what to do. I stay silent, shaking like crazy. I already have a backpack ready, for every time I wanted to run away. Today is my day, to get out of this hell house. I then hear my dad's footsteps fade away, heading back down the stairs. I sigh, knowing that I have my chance. I check my backpack, turning on the flashlight of my phone. I have only 80 bucks, clothes that can last me for a week, my toothbrush and feminine products, and one of my dad's guns. I close my backpack, and slowly open my closet door. I head to my window, the only place I can think of, instead of the door. I open it, slowly until it makes a cracking sound. It echos down the hall and stairs. "Rebecca is that you.?" I hear my dad yell. Shit. I open it wider, still making the noise. I hear my dad run up the stairs. "Where the fuck are you going.? I will beat your ass once I get there." he yells. My heart is beating out of my chest, climbing out of my window. I push it down as I see my dad enter my room. His hand reaches out my window grabbing my left ankle. He pulls me, making my fall on my back and head. "Get back in here.!!!" he says pulling me in. Half of my body is in, my hands grabbing the sides of my window. He gets his whip, beginning to hit my legs. I begin to feel weak, my vision is fading. I scream in pain, wondering if anyone is listening. I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing that I am never going to escape. I then lift my head, seeing that my dad has stopped. In seconds I pull myself out, quickly. I then have no choice, but to jump off my two story house. I fall on the dry grass, everything hurting. I stand up, and begin to run. My head is throbbing, feeling like I am going to pass out. After for what seemed like hours, I then stop running falling on my knees. I lift my head, looking around. Darkness, and only one street lamp over my head. I stand up, looking down at my legs. My skinny jeans are ripped and soaked with blood. I then gently touch the back of my head, feeling blood drip down on the back of my neck. I begin to walk, not knowing where to go. I call my friend Diane, knowing she could probably help. The voice mail goes on, knowing she is at the club. I sigh, sitting on the bus stop bench. Silence flows through the air, hearing car horns go off from a distance. I turn off my phone, as I begin to hear footsteps. I reach inside for my dad's gun, wondering who is coming. I then see the person coming towards me. He has a clown mask on, with a shotgun on both hands. I pull out the gun pointing it at the clown. He stands still, looking down at me. The next thing I know, I get hit on the back of the head, falling on the ground. My vision begins to fade as I hear tires screeching and multiple voices. "I think The Joker would love her." I hear a male voice say. "She is wounded dumbass, she will probably be dead while we take her." another voice says. I then begin to see black, fading away.

I wake up. I quickly get up, but can't. I can't see anything, complete darkness. I try to yell, but I have a cloth inside and another tied around my mouth. I struggle, hoping that I can get out. I begin to hear footsteps towards me. My heart begins to beat out of my chest. I have heard stories of The Joker, a teenager who doesn't give a shit about anything and just wants to kill. I hear laughing, as it gets closer. I struggle, as tears escape from my eyes. "Calm down." I hear a voice say. I stop and try to look who it is. A light turns on, as I see him in front of me. I look down, seeing that I am strapped down on a hospital bed. I try to not make eye contact, terrified on what I will see. "Look up." he demands. I squeeze my eyes shut, disobeying. "Look at me, I look funny." he says. I open my eyes, looking up. He looks young, about eighteen, with white face paint all over his face, black around his eyes, and red on his lips and cheeks. His hair a dark green, short yet messy. I look down and see he is wearing a green tie and dress shirt, and a long purple coat, with black skinny jeans. "Want to hear a joke.?" he asks. I shake my head no, knowing I chose the wrong answer. "Alright." he says with a creepy smile. One of the guys with the clown masks walks up to him. "Sir, we lost some of your equipment for the massacre." he says. Under that mask, I can feel that he is nervous. "Want to see a magic trick.?" he asks me. I stay silent, not moving. "I can make the pencil disappear." he says putting the point of the pencil on the hand rest. He then grabs the guy's head, takes off the mask, and slams his head on the pencil. The pencil is in the guy's head as he falls to the ground. My heart is beating out of my chest. "Now, enough of that. Let me help you." he says. He takes off the cloth from my mouth, and the other from inside. He takes off the strap of one wrist, then sits on the bed. "Do you want to end up like that genius or do you want to live.?" he asks as he points at the dead guy on the floor. "What do I need to do.?" I ask, my throat dry as hell. His smile grows, as he looks at me. "Good choice." he says taking off the rest of the straps. "We are going to have some fun." he says. I have no choice, but to be stuck with him, not knowing what will happen.