grace under pressure • jerome valeska

PROLOGUE

    "Get out of my sight now! I don't want to see your disgusting face!" 

  "Who said you could eat?" 

  "Come back here you bitch! Come out come out where ever you are!" 

  "This is my adopted daughter, Grace." 

  "If you ever embarrass me like that again it will be the last time you do so." 

  "Open this door now! DO YOU HEAR ME!"

  I covered my hands over my ears and shut my eyes tight, backing into the corner behind me. I knew I couldn't back up anymore considering I was pressed right up the wall but I couldn't help it, I just wanted to get out of this room. Out of this madness. Out of this noise. I shook my head vigorously, digging my nails into the sides of my head. The banging on the door continued and I just tried to block it out. It didn't work. It never did. 

  "I said OPEN THIS DOOR!" He screamed and kicked the door hard. I yelped in fear. I was not opening that door. Ever. He would have to break it down. Somehow, that statement didn't help me in the slightest. I swallowed a lump in my throat at the thought of what would happen if he did get that door open. Maybe if I complied now I would get a lesser punishment. I kept my eyes closed tight, hot tears spilling faster and faster. I started to rock back and forth, the dirt on the floor clinging to my backside. 

  I was hyperventilating and breathing out at an abnormal rate. I needed to get out of here. Everything was closing in on me. But if I opened that door I couldn't take one step without being harshly stopped. The decision was made for me when the door burst open. 

  I opened my eyes. 

  My eyes adjusted to the light for a moment before my orbs settled on the man before me. None other than the new infamous Jim Gordon. I had heard of him. Everyone had. Basically all of Gotham and maybe even more. Even with my...home situation, I still got the word of him and his reputation. He broke the rules on all of his cases but yet, after it was all done, everyone thanked him for it. But of course, that wasn't the subject at the moment. 

  "Why did you kill your parents and brother, Grace?" He asked me. I scoffed. 

  "Would have been brothers if the neighbors didn't call you guys." I snap, leaning back in my seat. He narrows his eyes at me. 

  "You didn't answer my question." He nagged. God I hated naggers. My mother was a nagger. I hated my mother. I give a small smirk. The room was small and empty, besides me and Jim. The walls were dirty, some greenish-blue bricks, some plain white. There were at least five overhead lights as well as windows but yet it still had a certain darkness about it. I glanced around a bit before settling my eyes back on the man before me. I keep up my smirk.

  "Losing patience?" I snark. 

  "Yes. And when I lose patience it tends to be bad for the person who is making me lose my patience." Jim threatens. I raise my cuffed hands up in mocking defense before putting them back down in front of me. I lean forward a bit and my face becomes serious. 

  "Fine. You want me to answer your question? I will. But first, let me ask you one." I say, my voice just above a whisper. I could tell I had his attention now. I narrow my eyes like he did to me, my handcuffs clinking as I shift. 

  "What would you do if you were beaten everyday of your life? What would you do if no one helped you? What would you do if you were raised to do one certain task that no one told you to do, but you know you had to someday? That task, making it so all the days of torment seemed better and in the past rather than the future?" I choose my words carefully, speaking them clearly and slowly. He stayed silent. After a moment I throw my head back laughing, my eyes closing tight as I bang on the table. I snap my eyes open and jerk my head back to face him and I could see his eyes had widened considerably. 

  "What? No answer? I'm losing my patience, Jim." I say with a wide smile. He suddenly lifts his head. 

  "I would have gone out to ask for help. I would have done something and called for the police." He says. My smiles dies down. I feel anger bubble up in the core of my gut and I growl lowly in the back of my throat.

  "Just that easy, huh?" I hiss. He settles back in his chair a bit.

  "I answered your question. Now answer mine." He told me. I lean back, thinking. I then breath in slowly. 

  "They just...kept making me lose my patience. If you know what I mean." I answer. He stares at me for a moment. A long, hard, emotionless stare. I looked into his eyes. I was good with telling someones true intentions. It all had to do with the eyes. They were the gateway to the soul after all. He had...good intentions to say the least. But something else was there. Something dark. I smile at that. He nods, knowing he's not going to get anything else out of me. 

  "Well, that is all I needed to know. Thank you for your time." He said and goes to get up. I smirk. 

  "It wasn't exactly optional." I say with a tilt of my head. I shift in my seat. "So...what is my punishment officer? Hmm? Prison? The chair?" He looks at me again, this time with a cold glare. 

  "You, Grace, are going to Arkham Asylum." 

What do you guys think of the first part? Grace is above ( just imagine her with more frizzy hair) . Comment your thoughts!