A strange noise started to pull me out of my deep sleep. I groaned softly and turned over onto my side, I wasn't ready to get up yet.

There's no way it's time for me to get up!

I opened my eyes, and then reached up to rub them. As I woke up more, I could finally identify what the sound was. It was Joker, laughing.

I groaned loudly then shouted," Jesus Joker! Shut the hell up! Some of us are trying to sleep!"

I jumped as I heard him pound on the Plexiglas door to his cell, "C'mere Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!"

I sighed as I rolled out of bed, and stood up. I stretched my arms above me and rose up onto my tiptoes as I stretched my entire body. My back arched, and I clasped my hands together as I turned my palms toward the ceiling. I lowered my arms, and then walked on my tiptoes to my own Plexiglas door. I leaned against the concrete next to the door and crossed my arms. I looked across the hall and saw Joker, in all his anarchical glory. He leaned against his door, an arm above his head to support his leaning body. He was in dark purple slacks, with a dark blue octagonal dress shirt. He wore a dark green vest, with a striped blue, green, and yellow tie. I could see his purple sports jacket lying on his bed.

I eyed him up and down, taking in every inch of his outfit, as well as his make-upped face. His face was painted pale white, with charcoal black circles around his chocolate brown eyes. And there was bright scarlet red on his lips and over his scars so, even if they weren't there, he'd always have a permanent smile.

I then looked down at myself, in my bright white jumpsuit. I could see my platinum blonde hair low over my shoulders. My hair was mostly covering up my "name tag", where it said my inmate numbers. I looked back up to Joker and shrugged, "So. What'd ya want Clown Face?"

I could see him scowl as he pushed himself off of the door to stand up straight, "What did you just call me?"

I rolled my eyes as I responded, "I called you Clown Face. Normally I wouldn't but you woke me up. So… Answer my question. What's up?"

He cracked his neck as he straightened his vest, "Well, I wanted to let you know that we're getting out of this hellhole, within the next few days."

I scoffed as I looked at him in disbelief. I then shook my head, "We're what? No way Joker. We're in here for good. Well, I know you are at least. Hopefully I do get out eventually, if my shrink decides I'm 'fit for society' once more."

He cackled and shook his head, "Oh Kitty, Kitty, Kitty. You don't know me very well if you really think we aren't getting out of here soon."

I rolled my eyes and stood up straight. I was too tired for his antics, and his chiding. I found myself shaking my own head as I started to turn towards my bed.

Before I even took a step, Joker was calling for me. I turned once more towards him, with an eyebrow arched.

He was leaning against the glass again, but not with his arm. He looked like he was doing a push-up against the glass. He was smirking as he asked me, "Kitty, do you know how I got these scars?"

I crossed my arms and leaned against the concrete once more, "No I don't, but are you gonna tell me so I can go to bed?"

He pushed himself off of the glass as his smirk grew, "Not just yet. I was just wondering if you knew. I think I'm going to wait to tell you. When I have the upper hand on things, that's when you'll know."

Then, with that, he turned and walked to his bed. Signaling he was done with me, and our conversation.

I shook my head as I uncrossed my arms and went to go lay down again. What the hell was he talking about? "When he has the upper hand"? Kinda hard to have the upper hand on things when you're in this hellhole.

I laid down in my bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. I rolled over onto my side and mumbled softly to myself, as I started to drift back to sleep, "He's probably just talking out his ass…"

I was awoken again, but this time to the normal sound of the alarm that blared in the morning. I groaned and sat up in my bed as I heard the guards yelling for us to get up and stand in front of the door. I got out of bed and walked over to the Plexiglas door, yawning and stretching as I went. I heard a buzzer, then my door, as well as all the other doors, slide open.

Dean, the head guard of our unit, sauntered over to my cell and waved with his fingers for me to step up. I rolled my eyes and stepped forward so I was directly in front of him, my arms outstretched. He pulled out handcuffs and strapped them to my wrists, tighter than they needed to be. I hissed and jerked my arms back after the cuffs were on. He chuckled darkly as he looked at me, "What's a matter? Too tight?"

I glared at him for a moment, and then grinned mischievously, "No darling, they're not tight enough. But they are a little cold. Could ya help me with that?" I bat my eyelashes at him to really drive the point home.

He scoffed, and scowled as he reached out and gripped my upper arm. He dragged me out of my cell, and tossed me into the hallway, so I bumped into Joker. I steadied myself after being tossed, and shook my head as I muttered, "Fucking asshole…"

Joker chuckled as we started to walk towards the cafeteria, which was always our first stop before we went to our therapists. Joker leaned towards me, and started to whisper carefully laid out plans he had made to escape before. I giggled and shook my head, and even chimed in with ideas every once in a while. I looked around every so often to see how the guards were acting, and I saw Dean looking at me as a bull would look at a red flag. I would smile at him, then turn back to my conversation with Joker.

Finally we were in the cafeteria, and as we waited in line to get our grub, the guards came and took off our handcuffs. I grabbed my tray of imitation eggs, with mystery meat sausage and cardboard toast. The only thing that was halfway decent was the coffee, which I took with three creamers and six sugars. I sat down at a table with my other friends, since none of them ever wanted anything to do with Joker, and he was too preoccupied with toying with guards anyway.

I grinned at them as I started to mix the cream and sugar in my coffee, "Good morning everyone!"

They grunted at me in response. Stevey, whose real name was actually Roy, glanced up at me nervously. His bright baby blue eyes were wide and moving back and forth frantically. His beach blonde hair was all mussed up and wild. He looked around, until he spotted Joker, and then looked back down at his tray. I frowned a bit, and cocked my head, "Stevey? What's going on with ya buddy? You're not acting like yourself."

He shook his head at me, "I-I… I can't talk to ya Katherine. H-he'll kill me!"

I shook my head in return, but only in confusion, "What? Stevey, what are you talking about? Who's gonna kill you?"

"Joker man… H-he'll kill me. He's declared you a-as his property. A-and you don't f-fuck with his property."

I scoffed and took a sip of my coffee. I started to load up the fake eggs on my toast as I spoke, "Stevey… He's a big softy. He wouldn't actually kill you. He's all bark and no bite. I would know. I've called him Clown Face so many times. He hates that ya know… But he hasn't done anything to me."

Stevey only shook his head at me, but stayed silent.

Marsha looked over at me, then shook her head solemnly, "Katherine, don't push it. Joker isn't a big softy. He'd kill 'im. So just leave it. And watch yourself girly. He's more dangerous than you think."

I looked into her hazel eyes, or at least what wasn't covered by her bright red hair. I then nodded and ate my egg-covered toast peacefully.

I sat and chit-chatted with Marsha and the others, except Stevey, until it was time for therapy. I stood up and threw away my foam tray, with all the trash on it. I then lined up, as I was accustomed to doing for the past twelve years. I had my handcuffs put back on, luckily not by Dean, so they weren't too tight.

Then we were on our way to therapy. I walked with the group to where the group therapy room was, but then was taken aside, to the private rooms. My therapist, who was also the head of Arkham Asylum, had deemed me not fit for group therapy. I apparently put bad ideas into my fellow inmates heads.

I sighed as I was lead inside the room, and then sat down. The guard left, and I was left to play the waiting game for Dr. Jeremiah Arkham.