Only Four Percent
She generally gave herself good advice (but she very seldom followed it). ~Lewis Carrol
She shivered with the breeze, glancing up at a all too bright sun creeping in through the blinds. Bringing her blanket around her, Maddie was prepared to continue the lounging regimen she was in. However, a loud yowl roused her from her schedule. A short legged cat peered at her from the foot of the bed. "Mrow."
"No." she mumbled. The yowl rose from the ground again. She shifted, sliding out of her bed and the slumber it promised. Peering again at the window, she raised it open. No sooner than she did her furry friend bounded out onto the fire escape, leaving her room for the world. A brisk wind blew in, peppering her with goosebumps. "Well, so much for that." She smiled as the breeze came again, floating through the room amongst her textbooks, past the V for Vendetta poster, and out the door into the very empty brownstone. Leaving her room, Maddie stretched.
"Good morning world." The distant sound of traffic was all that greeted her. A while ago, she did have about seven or six roommates. But after the incident with one of them upstairs, the others shortly vacated. She pondered about going upstairs to see if they left anything worth selling, but disregarded it. The furniture can be used if she got another roommate. She instead settled into the pink kitchen, not once looking up as the same feline crawled back from another window. As it sauntered by, she smirked. "Tugger, one day I'm going to lock all the doors and windows. While it's raining, and you're outside. Then we'll see how flip floppy you are." For a moment, the black and yellow tabby froze. But then he turned pounced at her slipper. She might have laughed, played with him. Then gone to work at the coffee shop down the street, try to find roommates, and just maybe work on that book she keeps wanting to write.
But instead the phone rang and they stopped. A buzzer in the abode, Tugger leered up at her. Well? His face seemed to say. She rolled her eyes, digging into her back pocket at the third ring. The number was foreign to her though, and she let it ring two more times before answering.
"Hello?" she heard a sigh of relief from the other line. Perhaps it's a potential roommate?
"Hello, may I please speak with Madeline Revant?" Maddie frowned at her cat. She didn't put her last name in the ad on Craigslist. The voice-her voice, sounded calm and professional.
"Speaking?" She hated how her voice cracked.
"Well hello Ms. Revant I'm Doctor Leland. How are-"
"What do you want?" She blurted, then sighed. "Sorry, but this is my cell phone, I'm on minutes and I don't intend to buy anything for any disease or disorder.
"Oh, no no um..Madeline. This is in response to the results of the Myers-Brigg Personality Association Exam? You took it in the fall?"
"Oh?" She remembered. It was some mandatory test for college students for a social experiment. "Oh." Something her friends were doing, since they attended..."Oh..."
"So you remember?" came the voice. Maddie cursed under her breath.
"Y-Yeah...so I guess you're from Arkham?" The Madhouse. Her friends said it was just a test. They won't call you Mad, Crystal said. You're like our personal therapist. You're clean. Clean.
"I'm a therapist at Arkham Asylum, yes."
"I'm not insane." She couldn't be. She had insane neighbors, insane friends, hell even insane family members. But she...no.
"No of course not," the woman laughed. It sounded forced. "That would require a diagnose in person instead of the exam."
"So what's the call for?" she glanced around her home, trying to remember what she wrote on that paper months ago. The questions came to her mind, but not the answers.
"We just want to sign up an appointment with you to give feedback and see if you still wish to participate in the program."
"Um...no?"
"Alright, I understand." Leland replied. Maddie let her shoulders slack.
"Oh thank-"
"I just need you to sign the pre-resignation forms at the asylum to cease and desist all promotional contact." A long dial tone was all that answered her mumblings. She glared around her house, eyes resting on her companion.
"Fantastic." she muttered, stepping over her cat. The bathroom was pretty bare. A pale toilet and sink since the larger one is upstairs. Maddie looked at herself in the mirror, cracking a small smile. "Maybe she has a point." Short black tresses curved around the top of her head, like a half circle next to patchy brown skin. But it was the eyes that caught her attention. They were brown, darkest brown possible in fact. So nothing too extraordinary. However, perhaps their size, that nearly soul piercingly big status, gauged her amusement. Her aunt hated her 'bug eyes'.Way too big for a young woman, she would say. Makes her look like a creepy faye. It did make her look off. She turned on the facet, wiping her face. Off, but not crazy.
Kate kept her dead fish in the basement freezer, Maddie thought as she slid into the metro train, sitting as far from everyone as possible. The surge of hot water brought the scope of the situation into focus. Arkham. She remembered moving into Gotham, riding the very train route she was on today. It seemed like a prison, and from what she heard, it was. For maniacs, psychopaths and criminals far too dangerous for Black Gate. And they called her for an appointment. Her parents didn't do anything about it. She was grieving..she'll throw them out, they said. And then the dog died...
A blonde toddler was staring at her from his mother's lap. Maddie gave a smile, waiting for him to smile back. He didn't. She looked away. Even the dog...They think I'm messed up? The window of ever-changing New York cityscapes reflected a wide eyed brown skinned girl wrapped in a army coat too big for her. She tried to avoid the kid's gaze, looking down at the Riddle Of the Day app on her phone.
I make you weak at the worst of all times. I keep you safe, I keep you fine. I make your hands sweat and your heart grow cold, I visit the weak. Seldom the bold.
Weak, safe? She almost didn't notice that the train stopped, and looked up. Even in the wanes of daylight, it unsettled her. An illness can't keep you safe. Worst of times.. She stepped onto the platform, feeling colder than usual. What if this is a trap? Her feet kept going, cracking the frost underneath. She stood in front of the gates, before pushing one of the doors in. Now, it looked like a fortress. A tall metal frame with a port and a guard that looked too big for said port was between her and the doors. She tried to not stare into the cameras.
"State your business here." barked the guard, not looking up from his newspaper.
"I'm Mad...I mean," she took a deep breathe. He's just a cop. Grow up. "I'm Madeline Revant, and I came to see Dr. Leland about the Associative Program." Beady blue eyes flickered up.
"You joining?" he asked, looking her up and down. She scoffed.
"Not if I can help it." He snickered until her eyes narrowed. He fished for the phone and dialed.
"Yes I need to speak to Dr. Leland...yes well there's this girl. No I didn't ask her if she-Revant. Okay? Alright." he placed the phone down, seething. "You checked out. Most people need an appointment, but Leland really wants to meet you."
"People set up appointments here?" she surveyed the building.
"People need help." He muttered. "Some more than others...Alright...leave all metals, sharp objects, jewelry, and any potential weapons in this tray." he held out the gray container. "Then proceed through the scanner. If it beeps, come back and drop anything else 'forgotten'. If you join the program, you must do this for every visit. You get your stuff back when you leave." She placed her purse, keys, earrings and necklace into the tray. After taking a hesitant step into the frame, she looked back to find him holding out a yellow numbered card. "Day pass. Also connects you to your stuff. Welcome to Arkham." She snatched it and started for the door.
Just sign the damn forms, Mad. Don't talk too much, sign the paper, and go home. You know you're not insane. Don't let them tell you otherwise.
Much to her surprise, another black woman stood behind the door. She wore a lab coat, glasses, and a warm smile.
"Madeline Revant?" she held out her hand. Maddie shook it, watching the woman's other empty hand. "I'm Dr. Joan Leland."
"You didn't bring the forms with you." The smiled remained on on Leland's face.
"Sorry, but I had to escort a patient to their cell to calm them down. They are at my office, if you don't mind walking with me." She turned without waiting for an answer.
She wants to talk. Get a blueprint of me...No. "Sure," Maddie smiled back when she caught up.
"So I heard you're a writer?" Leland asked. "I think it was a friend of yours who mentioned it." The hall was quiet, the faint clacking of shoes echoing into the white halls and doors. Maddie listened for more sounds but heard nothing.
"Aren't you supposed to keep your discussions confidential?" Dammit. "Isn't that a violation of her privacy?"
"True, but she wasn't my patient until two months ago. Before that, she was a student of mine." Leland turned a corner, stopping at an oak door with her name engraved on a slab of metal. "She talked about you quite a bit either way. Maybe I confused when I heard her say that."
Liar.
"She also said you don't like medication. Even over the counter." Leland pulled out a key, fiddling with the lock. Maddie looked up and down the never ending halls.
"Not a fan of one drug solving one problem by giving me dozens more. Makes you become addicted. Good excuses for...never-mind." she replied.
"Is that what you think?" The door swayed in, creaking. Leland strolled to the desk, lifting up some papers. "Oh, and the patients aren't allowed on this floor. It's just our offices."
"Oh," Maddie eyed the love-seat in front of the desk. Leland glanced up.
"Would you like a seat?"
"No thank you, I'll stand."
Leland sighed. "Maddie, I'm going to talk to you one way or another so I suggest you take the damn seat. Or I'm not giving you the papers." Maddie stared.
"You can't-"
"Sit. Down." When Maddie did, the doctor visibly relaxed. "Thank you. Would you like to know the results of your test?"
"...Yes?" She was curious.
"You're personality type, based on the psychometric questionnaire designed to measure psychological preferences in how people perceive the world and make decisions, is INTJ. Introverted intuitive thinking judging. Only four percent of the population shares that core type in the world." Leland took a pen and jotted down something. Maddie frowned. She didn't say much...
"Great. So...seven million?" Maddie looked out past the window, the dead trees beckoning.
"Only point five are in the states that are women. Which means one out of a hundred girls may be similar to your...ideals."
"And am I the only one that took your test? Or did I pick the wrong favorite color?" The woman was still smiling, writing more stuff down before glancing at the files.
"Majoring in creative writing, but minoring in psychology and philosophy?" Leland leaned back, her gaze leveling. "Any particular reason?"
"I like writing..." Maddie glanced out the frosted windows again. "Especially fantasy..." For some reason the bitter snow seemed comforting. "Is that pursuit inane to you?"
"No..." Leland. "I was just wondering what drives you. You know, each personality type has little nicknames and traits. Do you want to know yours?"
"I'm not a fan, of nicknames I mean." Maddie fiddled with her hands, wishing she didn't wear mittens. "I had a bad tantrum once. 'Bad Mad, Mad Maddie'...But you're going to tell me anyway, right?"
"The scientist, mastermind, the thinker." Leland listed. "They are open-minded, honest, versatile, confident, strategic...arrogant, over-analytical, judgmental people that loathe highly structured environments that enforce rules that they deem nonsensical. Sound familiar?" Maddie kept her face blank.
"Nobody's perfect." she stated.
"You try to be, almost to the point that you'd rather do nothing than try and fail. And that's fine." That smile came again, but Maddie didn't return it.
"I'm sorry, but bouncing from putting my psyche on a slab to scrutinize and then praising it can be confusing. What do you want?"
"I want to make sure that the Association Program goes well. Sharp believes that by pairing two people in a session that have similar personalities, but different life-styles or situations, would promote a higher rate of recovery for our current patient and an incentive to our volunteers." Leland rubbed her temples. "Perhaps it would be better than just grouping patients due to lethality..."
"He wants to warn me to stay sane?" Maddie stood up. "I'm not-"
"Sit...down." She did.
"To put it bluntly, yes. Believe me Maddie, with what I'm seeing today, I don't want you in the program." Dr. Leland looked above her glasses.
"...Thanks?" Maddie shifted in her seat. She's not wanted?
"I'd think that this will end badly for...involved persons. But Sharp thinks otherwise, and I can only provide the research that proves him wrong after the program starts."
"Well, I'm sorry that I won't be a part of it." She stood up, leaving the office.
"Me too, especially since we'd pay an appreciation fee for your cooperation." Maddie stopped. Leland walked to her and watched her, before handing her the resignation forms. "I think that an experience like this would really benefit your academically-"
"Why would you pay me to sit and talk?...What's the catch?" Maddie was glad that for once the doctor's demeanor wasn't calm, but reminiscent.
"The program does involve...lethal persons. People who will if they can, kill you. And know quite a few ways of doing it that can turn your insides. Believe it or not, that's why many doctors go here. Consider this as an hourly job. If you want to back out and we have no reasonable cause to force therapy sessions, you can go. Anytime. But we need an answer soon." Leland stepped back into her office, glancing at Maddie one last time.
"Think about it."she said.
She did think about it. That night, in her king sized bed with Tugger asleep on her stomach. She looked at the contract form in her hands that the good doctor sunk in the resignation forms, before tossing it to the ground. The money would cover her rent, and then some. And all she had to do was just sit and talk.
With a deranged person across the room. No, a person that has my traits and mindset...it'll be like a looking glass. Looking into what I could've been...She curled into the feline, who fussed before settling into the new warmth. But if I can help them... What if I can't? How dangerous are they? I could die... A fluffy tail flicked her face, and she nuzzled the cat even more. I need that money, she was beginning to lull into the worlds of dreams and silent purrs. I can't be afraid of them. I can't show fear...Fear...
Fear