Chapter One: Roses Arn't Red

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It was the coldest day in Summer I had ever experienced. I could feel the breeze making the hairs on my neck stretch far away from me. A long sleeved dark sweater and jean shorts shielded me from wind as I turned the corner onto Thain Street.

As I walked down the street, I decided to stop at a flower stand, because something caught my eye: a single tulip had been spray painted bright green. Every other one was a sharp black or a bleeding crimson, but this single one was dying and had been painted. I picked it up to smell it: the smell of harsh chemical paint filled my nose and I coughed.

"Ya touch it, ya by it lady." The stout man behind the cart yelled at me. Once he noticed the green flower in my hand, he almost trampled all the other ones. "Hey, whatdaya think ya doin to ma flowers? I have a livin ta make!" He snatched it out of my hand and a single petal fell and landed on my tennis shoes. There was a bright green streak racing across my toes.

"I'm- I uh- It wasn't me sir. I um- I found it like that." I trembled as I backed away from him. I tripped and almost fell into the street. A moped zoomed behind me and missed me by a fraction. A man in a hoodie grabbed my hand and pulled me from the curb. I couldn't see his face, but his hand was so pale you would think he was sheer white. "Oh, um thank you."

He didn't respond, but the florist did. "Listen lady, Imma need ya to pay for this, or were gonna have some troubles." The hooded man started to walk away.

"I told you sir, I didn't mess with your flower. I don't know who painted it green." The man in the hoodie stopped. He almost appeared back in front of me, standing mere inches between the florist and I. I couldn't hear what he said, but the florist turned pale and ran off down the alley behind him. I wanted to thank the hooded man, but he pushed past me and crossed the street without looking. Cars raced passed him, but it was as if he didn't even notice them. He vanished into the alleyway across the street. I stood there, motionless. He had just saved me from a crazy florist, but then almost committed suicide by crossing a busy city street. I began to walk away.

Suddenly, a shattering scream came from somewhere; then, the explosion. A white noise filled my ears and I was knocked to the ground. It was louder than a jet engine, louder than a gun going off in your ear, louder than a cry for help. Cry for help: people were screaming. I couldn't get up. My whole body was a numb stain on the side of the pavement.

I picked my head up and saw people running in every direction: every direction but behind me. That's where it came from. I slowly pried myself from the ground. Cuts and bruises covered almost every inch of my body. I could feel a piece of glass in my face. I reached up to touch it, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash.

A gun. That's what I noticed first. It was a machine gun painted the same green as that dying flower.

Then batman. The crusader. He had just grappled away from the spray of gunfire. He looked beaten, almost as if he had been hit.

Last, it was him: it was the man in the hoodie. Except, it wasn't. The hoodie was torn, hanging loosely around his waist. His hair was the same sickly bright green as the gun. He was the man I had grown to fear on the television: the Joker.

By now, almost everyone had fled the streets. Gray dust fell from the sky and covered the shrapnel and the street. It almost felt as though the world had stopped and I was watching a movie take place. Except this wasn't a movie. A real life attack was happening mere feet in front of me and all I could do was stare. I was frozen to the ground.

Running: that was my first thought. But as soon as I tried, I felt a twist in my ankle. I fell back onto the ground and grabbed it. I could feel my heartbeat in it. I wanted to cry, but all I could do was scream. It felt like I wasn't the one who screamed, as if someone else had taken over me and yelled for me out of pity.

Suddenly the gunfire stopped. I heard it, but I didn't recognize it on account of my attention being on my ankle. I heard boots clanking, but it didn't register. Then they were in front of me, and my mind told me not to look up. I did.

There he was, the man I had been taught to fear, the mass murderer, the Joker. My eyes locked into his and I froze. His piercing eyes gorged into mine with almost pity. Almost.

"Hey there, doll." He twisted his head down towards me as if everything he said was a joke. I was shaking from all the adrenaline. "Aren't ya gonna thank me for earlier? I saved your life."

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I tried to move but the pain in my ankle was so fierce that I winced.

"Now, this isn't my fault, is it?" He kneeled down at my feet and placed his hand on my ankle. I hadn't noticed earlier, but his touch was cold. I just looked back at him as a single tear raced down my face. Fear, pain, It could have been from either of the two. "Oh no, no, no. This won't do." He reached his other hand up to my face and wiped the tear. He bumped into the piece of glass and I yelped. I let go of my ankle and put both hands on my face. Even though my face was covered, I could tell the Joker had moved.

Suddenly, I was picked up. The Joker threw me over his shoulder and began to walk away with me. I didn't have a clue what to do. I looked around for someone to help, but no one was left. Not even Batman was here to save me. I tried to beat on his back, but I was too weak to make a dent.

"Oh, sweetie, no need to worry." I could tell he was smiling. "I'll fix you up and you won't even remember who you were." He laughed: it was slow and drawn out, as if each laugh had a different meaning. "Ha....Ha...Haa."

Then, there was a pinch. I felt it in my calf and a burning sensation began to fill my whole body. My eyes began to get heavy.

"Sleep tight princess, you have a very long day ahead of you."

My eyes shut and I forcefully fell into a deep dangerous sleep.

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