It was an ultimate test of faith, really.

I've been good at many things -- school, jump rope, making friends.. That's in no particular order, by the way.

But most of all was gymnastics. I was the best world-wide, and I felt so proud to see my parent's faces when I landed a perfect cartwheel, or did the best back-bend ever. I took pride in how, (even though I was 12, and I had to keep it hush-hush because I'd heard other girls didn't do that anymore,) I carefully aligned my stuffed toys in the correct order before I went to bed, and even though I wasn't greeted with a goodnight hug or kiss from my parents, I was sure they loved me. I was proud of all I had accomplished that day, and so were they -- what was not to love?

But sometimes, negative thoughts would slither into my mind like a snake, capturing it s prey perfectly and poisoning my mind with them:

What if I wasn't the best? What if they couldn't depend on me to win every time, like I always have?

I had begun to realize all-too-soon that they didn't love me as much when I wasn't doing something utterly fantastic -- something that would have seemed to exceed my will, or just be awesome in itself. It was that that had egged me to do what I did.

Today has been so hectic... But I can t think of that now; I've got to focus. Focus, Harleen - Will my parents still love me? -- No, not on that. On this. The flip that will could possibly ruin my life -- but they ll still love me, that's all I need to know. ..Right?

That day, as I was rushing in the air I accidentally hit the ground the wrong way; just so, in fact, I had to get surgery, and couldn't walk for weeks.

Only moments after the incident, as I looked up dizzily, taking in my surroundings and the people rushing around me, over me, screaming, crying -- was that some booing? -- I realized how fun it was to watch the world around me fall apart; like little ants, confused and trying to rebuild their anthill. As I was escorted out of the building in a carrier, I couldn't help giggling. And then giggling some more.. and more.

But it didn't really last that long, not really. The pain rolled in much too quickly..

I remember staring at my parents while I was laying down in the hospital bed. They looked.. Betrayed, as if they knew I planned it. As if they knew it was their test of faith, and they wanted to fail. Then again, it looked like something else. Definitely not betrayal; they seemed much too sad for that. And that left one thing.. Disappointment!? In me? Their own daughter, who has accomplished more than they! The thought was so.. So APPALLING to me!

And it made me so.. So.. So angry. I pouted, turning my face away and keeping the tears that were beginning to brim over and onto my cheeks at bay.

I reached out for the soap, wishing that I could re-do the event that happened five weeks ago. I mulled over it for a while, staring down a the bathtub floor as I let the shower head's water wash over me. I knew that maybe, I shouldn't be so unreasonable. I could restart, after all. My parents were definitely willing -- a little shaken, now, but willing. Wouldn't that be reasonable? The kind thing to do?

Except I don't want to be reasonable, and I don t want to be kind, either, I reminded myself for the millionth time.

I wanna SCREAM, and HIT SOMEONE, and be completely and utterly UNREASONABLE.

Somewhere, In the back of my mind, there was approval.

That's right, Harleen. You should be unreasonable. It's a 'lotta more fun that way.

As the soap suds and water passed across my body, I couldn't help but to agree with this voice, in the back of my head. She was everything inside of me that I want to be -- and yet, I still sometimes get the feeling that I should back off. To say "No more," to this craziness of the voice In the back of my head. And although I'm Harleen Quinzel, I've come to know that I'm really Harley Quinn at heart -- and even though I don't agree with Harley, and it's a painful thing for me to admit.. it's true.

Harley was there the whole time, really.

"I don't want to be reasonable," I whispered tearfully, head bowed down and staring at the shower floor. Tears mixed in with the water as it rushed down my face, pass my body, and into the drain.

That's right, Harleen.

Right.

Well.. I hope you enjoyed! This was basically just Harleen's fall from grace; it's a few basic clips of how she adopted Harley. Of course, although the ultimate creation of Harley Quinn was the Joker, I believe she would have had to have some other type of influence beforehand; a small push on the long ride to insanity. If you're confused, please just ask and I'll answer. That last shower scene is just.. kinda random. I really wanted to add it, soo..

I'm sure there are some spelling mistakes -- please excuse 'em. :3