Ok as a heads up, this is absolutely depressing, I was really downwhen I wrote it. I don't know if it's that good, but oh well. It's rated a little higher than it probably should be, but I figured I should rate it 'M', just to be safe. This has absolutely nothing to do with my other Harley Quinn story, alright…it's just a random thought I had, that I made into a story.

BTW I don't own Batman or any part of the franchise...just in case you didn't have the brains to figure it out yourself...sorry if that's being mean, it wasn't meant to be.

I see her walk into the room, she looks different from the last time I saw her a little over a year ago. Her blonde hair has grown from her shoulders and now it almost reaches her waist. Her baby blues lost their shine and inner sparkle. I don't know what happened to her, but I do know that the woman in front of me is but a shell of the one I once knew.

"Hello Harley. How are you?"

She made a noise that sounded like it was supposed to be a laugh but came out as a bark. Good God, what did they do to her?

"Hi…do I seem ok to you…whoever, you are?"

"Don't you remember me?"

She shook her head before replying, "until a few…minutes ago, I didn't even know my name, some stranger yelled one at me…I don't even know if it's right. So no, I don't know who you are, I don't even know who I am."

I was completely shocked, not at the fact she didn't remember me, but rather that whatever happened to her caused this vibrant young woman to lose the spark and energy that made her who she was…how could she forget herself?

"Your name is Harleen Quinzel" at her flinch I continued "but, several years ago you chose to take on the title of Harley Quinn."

"Oh. That's what they said too, but you said it without throwing me into a wall…"

"My God! Why did they do that?"

"I couldn't remember how to walk, and it seemed to make them angry."

"Why couldn't you remember?"

"I was chained to a wall for God knows how long…speaking off, how long have I been gone?"

She asked this casually as if she could care less, how odd! Harley was once an overemotional puppet…what caused her to stop caring?

"That's horrid…and to answer y-your question, you've been confined for a year today."

"Oh…that's interesting *eye roll*. What did I miss?"

"Oh *awkward laugh* umm…not much same old, same old. Gotham is full of criminals causing havoc and Batman with the help of the police force attempt to stop them, although he typically succeeds."

"Fascinating…"

She rolled her eyes in boredom, how strange…

"Umm…is there anything else you'd like to know, or anyone you'd like to ask about?"

She stared at me oddly for a few seconds before replying, as if she was fighting to recover a lost memory, but lost "No…should I? I can't remember anything…"

"Ohhh…well, never mind then *awkward cough*, let's move on to another subject alright? Hmm…here's a question for you, what have you been up to?"

She stared at me oddly, it was strange, because while she was staring directly at me, it was as if she could barely recognize that I was in the same room as her.

"I'll talk, not like I have much choice anyway *strange bark laugh*. But, are you really sure you can handle what I'm about to tell you?"

I was actually puzzled by her question, 'could I handle it' why couldn't I? I have seen many strange and frightening things over the years being the top reporter for Gotham. What could be so terrible that she thinks I couldn't handle?

"I'm sure I'll survive Harley. Please, share your story!"

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you, it isn't a pretty tale."

"I've been locked inside of a small gray room for quite some time; the light never fades or increases, so there's no way to tell if any time had passed or what time it is for that matter. The room is made up of gray bricks and the floor is as well. The ceiling was too high to see, I think it's to give the allusion of a bottomless pit.

I'm strapped to a cot of sorts on the floor. My wrists are chained to the wall and my ankles are chained to the floor. I can't move. I'm forced to sleep thanks to vents hidden in the walls that pump gas into my prison. This gas knocks me out, but due to my immunity to things, the gas had to change its dosage and consistency frequently. It was horrid being forced to sleep, only to wake in a greater nightmare than the one I left."

"Wait! Before you continue Harley, I have a few questions for you." She glanced up at me as a response, so I asked "first off, why were you chained up?" it wasn't a very thought-provoking question, but it needed to be asked nonetheless.

"Oh, that's an easy one. Onetime, I had a funny reaction to the gas, it made me incredibly itchy. Seems harmless I'm sure, but you see I was knocked unconscious for an unknown period of time; because of this I couldn't stop scratching, like a normal person would if they were awake. When I did finally awake, I was chained up, and noticed my arms had gashes that went through at least ten layers of my skin. My arms were so covered in blood that I probably could've died from losing it. Speaking of my nails, the last time I saw a person was the day a person wearing a protective suit came to take care of them."

"Oh my, that's horrible! What happened to them?"

I was insanely curious, because as I looked down at her fingers, they appeared to be normal, and she didn't finish her story, she just stopped! Who tells an intense story and stops at the cliffhanger? It's not right!

"Well…whoever the person was ripped them out of my fingers, while I watched. The funny thing is that I didn't feel a thing."

"What? That makes no sense, painkillers don't work on you!"

"I'm aware. You see, by that point I had lied to myself so many times, saying the pain didn't matter, that I actually tricked my mind into believing the lies. See, that's all pain really is, you brain's way of dealing with what happens to you. The reasons I lied are as follows: the sadness of knowing that no one was going to save me this time; knowing that I was completely helpless to my captors and lastly, knowing that every time I woke up chained to that wall and covered in bruises all along my arms and thighs, I had been violated. Oh, don't look so shocked, it happens all the time in Arkham, since I was locked in that cage, it happened twenty-seven times. So as you can see, I slowly became numb; I honestly don't feel anything anymore. By the time I had my nails removed, I had been chained for so long, that I could barely remember being without them, although it could've been a few days…"

"That's absolutely disgusting, drugging you and chaining you up so you can't get away, only t-to do that! That's an outrage, I can't believe that happened to you."

"Well…you might as well believe, because I guarantee that no one here will get in trouble…I don't know how I know that, but I do…."

I was pulled out of my disgusted thoughts by that comment. How can she not remember, she has been in and out of Arkham so many times!

"Wait! What do you mean you don't remember?"

"Simply that, I can barely remember anything. I know things, while having absolutely no idea how I know whatever it is. It's actually rather annoying to be honest."

"Can you remember anyone?"

"No. I still don't know who you are. But due this slight annoyance towards you presence, I'm assuming I didn't like you…not that I'd remember."

"My name is Vicki Vale, reporter…but wait, let me get this straight…you don't remember anyone? Like the Joker, Batman, Poison Ivy…"

She just shook her head and frowned. I want to jump over the table between us and give her a big-ole hug…which is odd, because Harley is right, we don't like each other…and I'm not touchy-feely. Ever. How could Harley completely forget her reason for living, that seems as likely as me waking up one morning and forgetting how to breathe. It just doesn't make sense…what happened to her? The more she shares, the more horrified I am, yet the more I want to know, so I can help.

At that moment Harley Quinn looks up at me and says "I have a feeling that I should know who they are, but I don't . I feel a funny stirring, but I'm confused…so confused."

I knew I'd regret this later, but I have a feeling that if I didn't do this, I'd regret it even more. I pulled out my phone and opened asearch browser. I typed in the Joker and pulled up images, making sure to pick one without her, which is far easier that it would've been had she not been locked away for a last year. She stares at the picture and blinks twice, before an odd look crosses over her face. I worry about what Gotham's going to say to me due to my actions, because this interview is being broadcast live…but in all honesty, I don't actually care.

She tries to speak, but stops herself, as if she's trying to think of the right thing to say. Then she stares at the picture again before replying.

"It's real! In-between my nightmares, or maybe dreams, I can't tell the difference between the two anymore; I'd catch a glimpse of that smile or hear a laugh, and I'd almost feel something, before the pain came again. To be honest, I've spent so much time blacking out, waking in one horror only to black out again and awaken in another, far worse than the one I left; that I'm not really sure if I'm awake right now. But if I am, which I hope is the case, I almost feel what I think I remember being joy…but I don't know, that face makes me want to smile, but I don't remember why, let alone how to do the action…"

At that I gasped, and louder than I thought, because Harley lifted her head up at me and stared at me in surprise. I suppose all that time locked away and away from human contact, has made her forget more than her precious memories, but it has also taken her memory of humanity as well. This poor shell of a woman, I honestly hope she remembers herself, and soon…as much as I despise who she used to be, no one deserves to live as she is right now. I need to finish this interview soon, because I feel as if I'm about to curl into a ball and cry. Who would've thought that this woman, who I secretly despise would make me feel so horrible with a few measly words?

"I'm so sorry for what's happened to you. No matter what you've done, no one and I do mean no one should have to go through what you did. It's not right, you used to be a human being, yet these monsters turned you into a shell."

Harley glanced up at me in shock and I turned towards the camera before continuing:

"Are you happy Gotham? Hmm…well are you, this is Vicky Vale asking you if this is what you wanted when you voted for this. Are you ok with turning Harley Quinn into this? I don't know about you, but I know that this isn't right, no matter what she's done. I've dedicated my life to showing Gotham the horrors inside our great city…but I never thought I'd criticize and despise the system I thought was helping people. I'm sorry, but whatever happened to Miss Quinn didn't help her, it made her worse."

I stare at Harley again and am pleasantly surprised to see her attempt to smile, I'm positive that it's unintentional, because she doesn't even notice that the corners of her mouth flared up for several seconds. Good, she needs to smile again. No matter how much I honestly hate Harley Quinn for the things she's done, I can't feel anything but pity for her now. Suddenly I feel the need to continue my little tirade.

"Harley, the Joker, whether you remember him or not was determined to make you his pupil. You fell in love with him instead and became his puppet. His goal after that was make you as uncaring and unemotional as he is…but you didn't cave and surprisingly, he didn't kill you. I honestly don't know what you did to stay alive, but you did, only to die inside that cell. It's absolutely disgusting to me, to think how much you've changed. Well, congratulations Gotham, we've done the one thing we hoped that locking her up would prevent. Harleen Quinzel has been gone for quite a while, and Harley Quinn disappeared, what we now have is a broken woman who no longer cares. You all secretly hoped locking her up would save her, instead it finally gave her a reason to snap and give up her humanity…I hope your happy Gotham, because I know I'm not."

As I was finishing my statement, guards came to take Harley back to her old cell in the Rogue wing. Much to my and their surprise Harley found a new strength and killed the two guards within seconds; it was absolutely terrifying to watch, one moment they were alive and the next they were lying motionless on the ground. Harley looked up at me with the same bored expression she's had on her face during the whole interview, to be honest I'm absolutely terrified that she's going to kill me. Instead, much to my surprise she actually smiles.

"Well…Vicky, it was a pleasure meeting you again, but I have other things to do. I'm going to be nice, and let you live, because you got me out of that cell with this interview and you made me realize the truth…I honestly don't care anymore. So hello Gotham, I'm back…more or less and I intend on destroying every single person who cause me to live in that hell. After I've killed you all, I'll probably jump off a bridge or something, after all I remember hearing once that drowning is a lovely way to go, you feel like your floating and it's supposed to be peaceful…I would love peace. Well, bye for now, I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon."

At that Harley jumped onto the table and flipped up to the window frame several feet above my head; I suppose some things can't be forgotten. Harley glanced down at the camera and gave her signature 'kiss goodbye' before jumping out the window. Now I'm even more afraid, Harley is loose…and I have a feeling it's my fault.

"Oh God, this is horrible, we're all screwed. Crazy emotional Harley was bad, but at least she had some restraint…I don't think she has that anymore. Damn it! We're going to die, *sniff* I don't want to die."

One tear escapes my eyes, before I realize that I'm still on-air…oops! I cough quickly to regain my composure and take a deep breath. I'm going to be in so much trouble for swearing on-air, even if it was on accident.

"Well, Gotham…you've seen it here first. Ha, Harley is back…in body, the person we once knew is gone. I'd tell those you care about that you love them and start praying, because Harley is on a rampage. Once before we the people of Gotham chose to ignore her as a threat and that didn't end well. Let's avoid having that happen to us again alright? This is Vicky Vale reporting at the scene where Harley Quinn, if she can still be called that, has escaped. Have a great day, and I truly hope you didn't help to put her here, because if you did there isn't much you can do…good luck Gotham, we're going to need it.

A glass of alcohol is thrown at the wall with such force that it shatters and the shrapnel destroy several nearby antiques. Great, just great…his star pupil has finally outshined him. I knew this day would come eventually, after all she had enough problems before, but now she has nothing stopping her…that terrifies me. I fear for my friend, if I can even call her that now…my she's changed. It's not right what they did to her, I hope she really does kill them, they deserve it!

"Calm down damn it! And stop breaking my things!"

"Fuck you! Does she really think she can just forget me, and go off on a killing spree? Hell no, mad killing sprees are mine damn it…she can't steal that away too…"

"What are you talking about Joker, steal what too?"

"Alcohol. Give me alcohol…" the Joker pleads.

I get up and head to my fully stocked bar, I suppose it's one of the perks to owning a lounge club. Great, now I'm get to watch two of my friends spiral out of control. And here I was thinking Tuesdays are too boring!

Well ta-da…what do you think? This story has absolutely nothing to do with my other Harley Quinn story…just in case you didn't read it the first time I wrote it. So, what do you think? It's only a one-shot, but I'd still love to hear what you thought and/or what you think happens next. Who knows, maybe I'll write another about what happens next…you just never know ;)

Thanks for reading!

x Kelsey