A/N: It's ok! I didn't drop off the face of the earth! If you've read my Twilight story, you'll know that right now it's on hiatus and I'm not sure when that's going to change. But for now I've got this story for you to enjoy!

So, lately I've really been into Batman stuff - I blame my uncle. He's got a lot of the comic books in his basement, along with numerous Bat-Mobile models. He's so cool ^.^

Anyway, tell me if you like the story, I've already got about four chapters written out, I just have to type them.

______________________________________________________________________

Annabelle woke up to the door slamming shut in the next room. She looked to her right and the place where her boyfriend, Sam, should have been was a note. It read:

Dear Annabelle,

I can't take anymore of your insanity. There's just too much to worry about. I know my mother can be a bitch but just because she offers you a cookie does not mean it's poisoned.

I hope you have a lovely life in an asylum.

Love never,

Samuel

Anger bubbled in Belle's chest. Who does he think he is? She lets him stay with her when otherwise he would be in the Narrows getting practically (perhaps literally) eaten alive by rats and sleazy homeless people. If he was lucky a nice old man might offer him some soup. She was very familiar with the goings-on of the Narrows. She wrote about it regularly, it was her job. She wrote a small column in Gotham Times about the daily news of the horrid place. She was always begging for more space on the page, but she was always second place to the big ad companies. Apparently the only time Gotham wanted to hear about the Narrows was when Batman swooped in to save someone from whatever was going on.

Coming out of her silent rant, she reached for the remote to the miniscule television at the foot of her bed. There was new reporter today.

"Jamie Gaffigan reporting from City Hall, where the infamous Joker is being tried on at least fifty counts of murder and other charges that are to be determined at a later date. There have been rumors about whether the case will be moved up to Supreme Court. The mayor said that it would be impossible for the case to be moved up to them so rapidly. But the Senator has other ideas."

They showed a press conference with Senator at the center with at least five different microphones. "The good people of Gotham have suffered greatly by the hand of this mass murderer. He attempted to tear down the very foundation of what America stands for. His crimes have been so extreme that I am surprised he hasn't been tried for terrorism."

It went back to Jamie. "The mayor has refused to have a press-" Belle jumped up and yanked the chord out of it's socket.

"Shut up!" she yelled at no one. She sank to the floor. Damn Batman . . . Damn him to hell, she chanted in her head. He had no right stepping in and ruining the Joker's ingenious plan to show the everyone just how stupid they really are. It was as terrible as shredding the Mona Lisa.

At this point she was glad that she was alone. Sam would never understand her, he might even get jealous if he actually loved her like he used to. She simply admired the Joker. He might have thought she was insane for that as well. She didn't want to see a doctor again. They irritated her, yet scared her at the same time. They somehow found a way inside her head, as if they ripped her skull open and peeked inside. And it hurt her. She didn't want anyone looking in her head. It was for their own good, her head was a scary place, even to her. That's what they were doing to the Joker right now. He was stronger than her, she knew it. He wouldn't give in quite so easily.

The other day she was walking past Arkam on her daily route and saw a blonde doctor. She immediately recognized her as the same person that pried open her skull. She pitied this young psychiatric student. At least that's what she was at the time. Belle was this woman's first patient. Belle had to admit, she liked Dr. Quinzel. She seemed to understand, and not condemn her patients. It was refreshing since that's the only thing the other's did to her. She felt like she was in a Saw movie. The torture, the feeling that someone you don't know knows everything about you. It was a feeling she prayed she would never have to feel again.

She finally stopped her sobbing and looked at the clock for the first time that morning. It was unplugged! That bastard Sam must have done it just to tick her off. It was a strange OCD of hers. Starting when she woke up, she had to know what time it was every five minutes. Even if she already knew, she had to see a clock. Because of this she was always punctual. But today she was going to be late! She didn't want to turn the television back on to see what Gotham's Morning News said the time was. She knew the only thing she would see was more things about the Joker. Today, she didn't want to hear about him anymore. She would get to work when she got to work. And that was that . . . As hard as it was for her.

She dashed through her hall, past her numerous posters for plays such as 'Phantom of the Opera' and 'Cats' and 'Wicked' she had seen them all at least three times. But she didn't have time to admire them today. She was probably late. That never happens. Who knew what was going to happen in the next hour it took her to punch in? And then the time it would take to walk down to the Narrows . . . My gosh it was a disaster! And to make things worse, her boss was a total jerk. Go figure. Even though she hadn't been late ever he would still be up her but about it. What a prick.

She took a fast shower, deciding that her hair was fine just the way it was, got dressed, got her camera and notes and then dashed out the door. She was a bit too fast to notice that she had neglected to lock the door.