A/N: This story circles around a clinically depressed Selina Kyle (Catwoman) who is admitted to the Arkham Asylum after her latest unsuccessful suicide attempt. After multiple doctors fail to alleviate her tortured mind (as well as enduring their own torture from her complicated behavior and violent tendencies) and their provided therapy sessions do nothing ease her frantic state, they reluctantly call in the cynical ex-Head Doctor of the Asylum in a desperate attempt to fix the mess that is Selina Kyle.
A overall dramatic fic with elements of dark comedy and sensuality. Centers around Selina in particular but includes factors involving other characters as well. *Eventual Jonathan Crane.
This Selina Kyle is completely Out of Character, and is not based off of Anne Hathaway's Catwoman. She is petite with a light cocoa-skin color (mulatto) and brunette, curly hair, based off of a younger Mariah Carey, referring to the cover for the story. Personality is also different from Anne's portrayal.
*I do not own the story's photo icon.
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of its characters or settings. All rights to the owners (DC comics, Nolan, Warner Bros., etc.)
*Rated M for sexual content, violence and mature language*
~ Sometimes, the only way to stay sane is to go a little crazy. ~ Girl, Interrupted
...
Chapter 1: This is it
The tall 40 oz. bottle of now empty chianti hit the wall with great force, then shattering down to the floor in a dispersed pile of broken shards. She'd just chugged down her third bottle of the night. Intoxication can ease a broken heart, can't it? That's what she believed. All she wanted was to be happy.
Muffled sobs sounded throughout the small apartment that was located in the cursed town of the Narrows. There, on her small, beaten, used and springy couch, she laid broken and abused. A good buzz wasn't enough to release her of these overwhelming feelings. Frankly, the pack of cigarettes that she had just gone through in not too many hours hadn't granted her anything pleasant either.
The TV was on and static consumed from the movie's cessation. She'd just watched The Notebook for the third time in a row that night. She scoffed inwardly to herself upon her own messy love life. Damn, was it the memoir...
She had spent days upon days lusting over her ex, Bruce Wayne, whom she had last been with nearly four years earlier. Her reckless ways and miscreant tendencies had drawn him away, and he had broken her heart. Since him, she couldn't find it in herself to find someone else. She just couldn't move on. There was something about this man that she just adored far too much to pay no heed to. Even though she hadn't dated him any longer than three months, she still managed to fall head over heels for the Batman. She was just twenty-two when she met him. She had just moved to Gotham after her best friend, Pamela, had died by accidental drug overdose. She was taking on a double role. She, perhaps experimentally, wanted to waver between the 'good side' and the 'bad'. Bruce, of course, couldn't condone to this. The problem was, she couldn't limit herself to just playing for the saints. At heart, she was no hero. Bruce was. As much as this burned a hole of sorrow within her, she knew that he was just too far out of her alley. Yet, she also knew she'd always love him, even if he didn't feel the same way in return.
She felt so lost. She was no longer the vivacious woman with plenty of ambition. It was like a part of her had died, a part of her that gave a damn about her sake. Selina just couldn't find it in her to give a hoot about much of anything anymore.
She scoffed at how literal that consideration is. She hadn't even showered in nearly four days, and hadn't eaten a thing besides half a sleeve of saltines in the past three days. Her stomach was caving in and begging for nourishment, but she continued to blow it off, letting her body waste away. She didn't care anymore.
She was falling apart. She had no one to love, and no one loved her. She was alone, absolutely barricaded in solitude. She longed for a friend, just a companion. Someone to laugh with, vent to, shop with, watch movies, hang out, anything, really. Selina was deliberately keeping within the barriers of her cluttered and run-down apartment just to avoid any of that. She knew that no one would have her, and she just couldn't stand the thought of anyone breaking her heart any more than it already was.
Then to add on to her tormented state, her grouchy, old landlord, Mr. Platoke, was at her door again to collect her dues.
"FUCK OFF!" she hollered at the door, while uselessly chucking her dirty panties at the door, as if that made for decent retaliation.
He debated, of course. He needed his fuckin' money, and he needed it now. "Open up! You're nearly two months overdue! If you're not out by mornin', I'm callin' the authorities!"
'Motherfucker!' she silently retorted.
"Go ahead, asshole!" she challenged. Loud stomping followed, then silence.
She couldn't take it any longer. That was it. She was in so much pain. She had nothing to live for. She had nothing to lose. No family left, no man, no love, no money, no bestie...
Maybe this was the only solution.
Selina weakly got to her aching feet and went into her very cluttered kitchen. After digging through a big pile of dishes and dirty clothes she found a small blade in her dish rack. This would do.
She limped into her bathroom, bile rising in her throat and hot tears pouring down her cheek. She knelt down by her tub and rested her forearm on the ledge. She whimpered as she turned the bathwater on. She didn't want to leave a mess for when they, whoever they were, would find her.
She sighed and yearned to accept her upcoming fate. She closed her sore eyes tightly. 'Just fuckin' do it. Get it the hell over with!' she scolded to herself.
With another minute of heavy bawling and tortuous mental scrutiny, she had found herself dragging the incisive tool across her right wrist. She didn't realize it, but she screamed out agonizingly just after she had left her mark.
Blood began to pour out with ridiculous velocity. God, this was a lot of blood. She squealed and prayed for it to end soon. She thought of her mother who had passed away nearly eight years earlier. She loved her mother like nothing else.
"I'M COMING, MAMA!" she found herself holler, her body growing weaker and weaker by the second, blood loss having really taking a toll on her already-poor health.
'Yes,' she thought, cringing intensely while hot tears ran like a waterfall down her supple cheeks. 'I'll be dead in minutes...'
Yes, she would have been, if she hadn't screamed. Help was on the way.
A/N: Thank you for checking this out. A short intro, I know, but the following chapters will be far lengthier. I've had this idea for a while so I decided to get in down in ink. Review to let me know what you think :)
-DS
