Pinpricks. Tiny, vibrating, pinpricks. It was the first sensation. It came in like warm water over her body, gentle and inviting. Following that, the smell of cleanliness. It was smooth at first but dropped down into a harsh and bitter intensity without warning. Eyes closed, mouth dry, the rest of the body becoming more and more existent. Where is this? A heartbeat fluttered in the chest. Can I move? She took note of her strained breathing and the growing sound of rhythmic machinery.
"I think she's waking up", the words flowed in like a haze.
"It's going to be a while before you can ask her anything. You'll have to come back another time…", another voice chimed dry and soft.
Alive…it feels familiar?
This idea, and barely tangible sensations, were melting together slowly making her whole. Her lashes parted, the overbearing brightness of ceiling lights overhead breaking through the delicate follicles.
"Welcome back." It was the second voice. It belonged to a woman wearing a white coat and jet-black hair. Sweet, hardened, chestnut orbs lent an expression of pity. The female apparition shifted around, poking and prodding, sharing verbal notes with herself.
"You're okay now, you're safe here.", the room captured the sentiment and multiplied the sound for posterity.
The bed sheet clad patient nodded blandly which only seemed to deepen that pitied expression by the doctor.
"I know you must be scared right now," a gentle hand slipped itself into the warmth of the cotton, her nails christened with apple red polish, "but we're going to do all we can to help." The sentence ended with a forced smile and a squeeze of her lovely claws. In return, the mystery girl exhaled and nodding her head once more.
"Alright then. My name is Lee Thomkins, and as you can see I'm a doctor. We aren't entirely sure what happened to you, so why don't you start off with the last thing you remember." There was a moment of silence between them before a reply was shared, "Alright then. My name…"
Am I alive?
"My name…", she repeated obviously confused.
"My Name."
The words stood without trailing this time, seemingly disturbing Lee as her gaze shifted to the clipboard that rested on her lap.
"I don't remember."
"Okay." The tone in Thomkin's voice said otherwise, "We can go back to that another time" she grabbed her pen and made a few marks. "Let's keep going for now, and you tell me if you've gotten too tired, okay?" In response, a sliver of heat dripped down the girl's cheek unexpectedly, urging fingers to meet it.
Am I alive?
. . . . . . . .
It had been months since that fateful day. She supposed today was not much different, but who was she to know anything about anything- anymore that is. "Kay! Hurry up! I'm starving down here!" the burly voice begged from below on the city street. She chuckled to herself and strolled to the apartment window. "I know Harv! I got one more box then we can eat!", he was grunting and bitching down there on the truck. There were people walking by making glances and old Harv made em himself right back. All the lifting from the day pleaded for her to take a few moments to rest on the windowsill to marvel at the little details. Gotham was pleasant. The people were unassuming yet full of life in so many ways. It was a place where lunatics made headlines and heroes lived outside of slums. Heroes like dear Harv. It was a place where the rules were meant to be broken- unless Gordon was around.
"Kay! I see you daydreaming! Come on!" the police chief had no respect for indulgence. Kay let out a sigh of defeat, "You got me! What's my sentence sheriff?" Unamused he raised an eyebrow and a look that said, really? "I sentence you to pizza and drinks at Gotham Pub!" he joked. "Hey alright! Guilty! Come on now let's go little lady!" Harvey called. Standing to attention she snickered seeing Harvey struggle with the aftermath of moving day. The sky was a vibrant array of orange and red seeping into the billowing darkness that was about to befall the beloved metropolitan landscape. Cerulean peepers rolled back in her head as she waltzed back into the tiny living area. There was a solitary cardboard box waiting in the middle of the room for her. She resigned to open it later in favor of her carb-filled punishment. Meeting the sweaty cops at last, it was apparent their attitude had changed.
"James? Hey, I know I took forever but what's up?" the two ignored her for a moment.
Harvey piped up, "Hey Kay, I uh, I think maybe we'll hafta get a raincheck for tonight huh? It's just something's come up…work stuff, kid."
"Mhm"
Something good was going on.
"Anything I should worry about or should I just assume you're making an excuse because you know I can outdrink you both?", the delivery was solid, but Gordon tended to catch a hint of her insincerity.
"Sorry Kay, but you'll just have to pay us back another time. Just be safe and turn in for the night." He spoke as the pair strode off past the truck to their car, drumming the steel panel side as they passed it. The violent purr of the diesel engine came to life and the driver set out on his way. The boys flipped on the siren and the half-empty husk of a person was left there on the sidelines ready for the impending darkness above to take her.
Nice.
This was just great, something was going on but here she was to stand idlily by with just herself as company. Things were so boring without an audience. Twilight was invading as she began her ascent to the new pad again.
The last deadbolt unearthed the one thought she couldn't escape: So, who are you? The idea dragged her down so much. What a silly name, Kay. It was amazing how many nurses and passer-bys asked "Are you okay?", upon realization of her tragic circumstance. She had heard the empty question enough times that she decided Jane Doe wasn't appropriate anymore. Everyone expected a simple 'yes', so why not take it a step further? At some point, she declared the misnomer of 'Kay' as her new title.
She lifted her small hands up to sun-kissed cheeks. A breath of air reigned in the conundrum's power. The hands continued up, manicured nails raking through silky snow-white hair. She turned sharply engaging a reflection in the mirror that propped itself up against the drab wall. It was her, but it was also a stranger. She approached it candidly. Soft lavender bags supported icy irises, freckles shyly pecked into the pale skin. It was distinctly mentioned by almost everyone that spoke with her that she looked frightfully odd- which she didn't care to hear. She often took it upon herself to play with those dumb enough to make such an obvious critique by making up an outrageous explanation for the way she looked- each story more ridiculous than the last.
Today she was wearing one of Bullock's old baseball jerseys. He had long outgrown it and the thing was much too large for her, so to compromise she cut it into a halter top. A decision Harvey was torn about. The faded emerald and eggshell colored cloth was soft from age but sturdy. Milky toned skin greeted the world from sternum to waist along with a myriad of disturbing scars. They told stories of brutality that experts to the day argued over amongst themselves. They concluded many of them were the result of textbook viciousness, whereas other wounds were unsettlingly surgical in nature. All in all, everyone agreed that whatever had happened to Kay in the past, was horrific. Many tried to debate moral quandaries based on such nasty marks as well. Kay did too. But only partly. It was her main thought while trapped in those scars as to how she felt getting them. Who cared if she deserved them or not. They existed and so did someone else who helped bring them to fruition. Who were they? Who was she?
Free.
That was a feeling she hoped to never forget. It was a torturous ride from hospital bed, to mental ward, outside world, Bullock's couch, and now mediocre lone housing. People often take for granted the small things they have access to on a day to day basis. It was difficult at first for Kay to make comparisons because of the amnesia, but it wasn't as if she was starting completely from scratch. The doctors said the type of memory loss she had was incredibly strange and concerning. In fact, they thought she had been faking for a good while. There were plenty of things she recognized and knowledge that just seemed to be left behind in her head. Only problem was that she had no idea who she was, what happened to her, or the where and when of it all. After a few brief sessions with Doctor Thomkins, she and other staff decided it would be best to send her to a mental ward to help see if there was any way to retrieve lost memories. For Kay, it was an enlightening experience in quiet a few ways.
Evidence of her stay came in the form of an old wrist band and paperwork unceremoniously crammed into a bookcase adjacent from the looking glass. She gave it a mischievous glare as she moved over to her dresser. From inside she removed a pair of spandex pants- one leg electric red and the other black like ebony. They were surprisingly comfy compared to the sweaty jeans she adorned at the moment. The fabrics switched places in a flash before she pranced over to the queen-sized bed. Her phone lay on the nightstand waiting patiently for her command. It chimed as she poked at its buttons cheerfully. The screen read Edwin, a little heart typed next to it. It was the one person from Birchwood Asylum she trusted.
Eddy was a troubled man. He was easily influenced and gentle. He had an unhealthy obsession with Kay from the start. He was a bit younger in age, scrawny and lacked mentionable features. Perfect for blending in. The one thing Kay made headway with in Birchwood, was learning all about Gotham's craziest stories. From Penguin mayors to billionaire murderers, the one that stood out the most was the tale of Jerome. A madman fit on destroying everything around him. He built himself up in the public eye as a man who didn't give a damn about the rules and encouraged all around to partake in their most vile fantasies- and with such style too!
What a man, she thought.
He was absolutely gorgeous too. The way he swayed in front of an audience, his thick ginger locks and contagious smile. It made her heart skip every time she thought of him.
It was difficult to not share her infatuation for him with anyone- but obviously she would have stayed there if she had. So, she shared it with nobody. That nobody was Eddy. He was so easy to talk to because he himself was so incredibly distracted by his own affliction of love for Kay. She saw this as the ripe opportunity to be so very bad. A cunning plan was hatched upon both of their release into society. Poor handsome Jerome was stuck in Arkham, and Kay was stuck with his captor's partner. There's no way she could just go see him in person without good old Harvey kicking her out. And it would be just as bad penning him letters in her own name. But if nobody sent him a few letters- who would care?
The flip phone blared its screen into her face as she lay backside down on the secondhand comforter. She was texting Eddy to see if he was available to go make some trouble- specifically to mess with an old police scanner she had nabbed from Gordon's place. She needed a placeholder for her future partner in crime, and Eddy would just have to do.
She sighed disappointed as minutes went by without a reply. Strange. He always got back to her right away. His phone was basically attached to him once they exchanged numbers. The glittering sequin axe charm clicked against the electronic plastic as she contemplated what to do next. "Might as well call," she decided. The call button sounded ordinarily as she kicked herself up and onto the floor into place and approached the beckoning box from earlier. Reaching inside, the rustling of correspondence kept the room from resting completely. With one hand busy sifting through paper, the other dialed her proxy.
Damn.
She hung up and tried again.
A smile took to her face as she read over ingrained lines she had received back from her idol. Lines like: "…and I thought I was crazy…you think I could crash at your place when I get outta here? Ever been with a guy whose face has been cut off? I can make us twins ; ) Hey, don't you remember me?"
She giggled as she swam through darker content that filled pages upon pages. Crude drawings like that of a child were of abundance. However, there were few waxy artworks of flowers and pleasant viewings, as there were imaginings of what Jerome would like to do to fellow inmates that bored him. There were threatening ones aimed at Kay herself, in which Jerome cheekily described in writing as "curiosity" and "artistic expression" instead of outright lunacy.
"Where is this guy? I'll try one more time I guess. "
Completely upright again with a photo of Jerome taken from a video still in hand, she placed the call once more.
She could hear Eddy's ringtone at the door.
"What the hell? Guess he had been on his way over…"
Pounding shook the flat. It startled her beyond belief. That was different- too different for him. Kay peered through the peep hole to see Eddy hyperventilating. He pounded on the door again. Curious, she undid the bolts allowing the wooden barrier to fling open recklessly.
"Eddy! What the hell is wrong with you?!" she berated him without caution.
A frigid air began to whisper from down the hallway. The apartment silently pleaded to crumble in on itself.
Panting, perspiration weighing down a cheap plum colored sweater he eagerly shared his reason for the abrupt visit,
"Jerome said we can be together forever"
"Uh, say what now."
Paralyzed by confusion, he took advantage of the impairment to spray her with something aerosol. Choking in the gas, she fell to the ground. Her vision faltering as she began to drift off. Before blacking out, a pair of heavy white boots approached, a distant and sickly cackle lulling her into the poison sleep.