Who's ready to see what's next for our dear Scarlett? Those who raised their hand shall see me at the end of the chapter. Happy reading!
Did You Deserve It?
"So it says here that you broke your own wrist to slip out of the restraints in the infirmary, attacked the guards and doctors that had come into the room for questioning, you even went to attack a few of the patients that were recuperating in the same ward. Let's see, lacerations caused by broken shards of a vase as well as careless misplacement of a scalpel. Hmm seems a bit far fetched that all of these injuries are a result of self defense and failure to cooperate." You're telling me this? I was the one on the receiving end of this beating.
They had me sitting up during this session so that the straps wouldn't irritate my new stitches and bruises, how considerate.
"Yeah that seems about right, but oh wait, did they mention the part where that entire story is complete and utter bullshit? I just don't remember hearing about that. Or what about the part where I was punched and scarred by a knife while being strapped to a table. Oh and let's not forget about the aftermath, you know, where they unstrapped me and threw me to the ground, and the few kicks that they administered while I was lying on floor. But wait, we can't forget the most important part, the fact that they admitted to drugging my food that morning, after all that was the reason that I was vomiting in the first place. Was any of that included Harley? It would seem a bit ridiculous to leave it out."
She uncrossed her legs and set her clipboard on the table in between us. Her hands ran through her hair in frustration, what's more frustrating Harley, the fact that you can't get anything out of me, or the fact that you work with people like this? "You think that I don't know that none of this is true Scar? I knew from the moment I walked into this place that people here were worse than those that we diagnose. I'm sorry that this happened to you Scar, really I am, but there's just nothing that I can do about it. The people that run this asylum are assholes, and I'm just not the person that's gonna change that, the most that I can do right now is be here for you and prescribe some stronger pain medication. You don't deserve any of the shit that you've been through here Scar, but I promise that I will get you out of Arkham, sure Blackgate isn't much better, but it's better then here." I probably do deserve this shit with what I'm doing to you.
"I think that's the first time I've heard you cuss during one of our sessions Harley. Is that a sign of you coming to your senses, finally realising that the people in this world are shit?"
Leaning back in her chair she gave out a soft laugh, "you've caught me on one of my off days is all, and no offence Scar, but you look terrible."
I let out a laugh at that, "gee thanks, violence and the inability to shower will do that to you." Along with unscheduled late night conversations.
She waved her hands as if saying 'no big deal', I knew that she was just trying to lighten the mood, standing from her chair she walked to her desk and pulled out a recorder and a black comb. Placing the recorder on the table she pressed the start button and turned to me while holding out the comb, "may I?"
"Depends on if you can cut it as well." I can't remember the last time anyone played with my hair without the intention of cutting it.
She walked back to her desk and grabbed a pair of standard scissors, "you won't beat me up in the parking lot if I mess up will you?"
"No promises."
I saw her give me a smile then walk behind my chair, "it's been awhile since I've done anyones hair, I used to play with my mom's but she never let me once I got older. I once told her I wanted to go to cosmetology school, she shot that down as quickly as it came out of my mouth. Still didn't stop me from learning though." She began to run the comb through my tangled locks, it felt amazing, "so do you think that you might be ready to open up a bit to me today, I know that you have had a shitty time this week but I need to be able to show progress so just something, anything." Don't sound too desperate Harley, it doesn't suit you.
She walked in front of me and parted my hair to the right, I looked into her eyes. "I don't I'd rather know more about you now." I could hear the snip of the scissors as she made the first cut, a section of my hair now rested on top of my shoulder, just the way I like it, good instincts Harley.
"You know that's not what these sessions are for." I felt her fingers run through my hair to shake it out and occasionally brush it off my shoulders and back.
"Then what are they for because I'm really not starting to see a difference." Maybe it's not a good idea to get attitude with the person cutting your hair. There were a few more snips before she responded.
"As of now they're for appearances since I can't seem to get you to open up about anything, I'm just gonna have to make up some bullshit sob story about what made you so troubled, they really won't know the difference." So sneaky Harley, is J rubbing off on you a bit too much?
"Why is that such a big deal for psychiatrists?"
She combed through my hair before walking around the chair to face me, snipping at my bangs more quickly than I thought possible, "they drilled it into our minds at school that childhood is where everything begins, understand someone's childhood and it can help you better understand why they are the way they are and how you can better help that person. That's why it's such a stereotypical question."
I wonder what bullshit story J gave her about his childhood "but what about those that had a normal childhood but ended up being completely fucked up? How do you explain those people?"
Leaning her head down she said in my ear, as though it were some big secret, "those are the patients that we live for." She ran her fingers through my now short hair before going to her desk to put everything back, I could tell that she wasn't in a hurry. "It's not too shabby if I do say so myself, here have a look." She pulled out her phone from her lab coat pocket and turned on her front facing camera before holding it in front of me.
"I love it, you could have had a great career in a salon." She laughed, I thought that it would be a quick pity laugh but it wasn't, the laughing didn't stop. "What the hell has you so happy?" It's not normal for someone to be this cheerful when sitting next to a criminal.
"Is it a crime to be happy?" She sounded jokingly affronted and I couldn't for the life of me understand what had changed so quickly. It was like the happiness just came out of the blue.
"No, it's not, I've just never seen you this happy before during our sessions, and I know I'm not that funny." She returned to her leather chair after returning everything to its proper place.
"It's nothing really, I've actually been a lot happier now a days, due to a recent breakthrough with one of my patients. I never knew that it would feel this good to be going somewhere with a patient, I feel on top of the world." J what the hell have you been doing to this girl?
"And by patient you mean the Joker right?"
"Oh Scar he's the best patient I've ever had," well thanks that doesn't sting at all, "he's just so...refreshing. I don't know how I could ever thank you for talking to him. You know he's actually very kind, despite his reputation, he just has this sort of captivating presence, I can't explain it, you understand what I'm saying though right?" More than you can imagine. " And he makes me laugh every time we see each other, I don't think I've ever laughed so much in my life. I really think these sessions are helping him, we're helping each other really, I'm telling you everyone's wrong about him Scar, he's not some maniacal monster, he's a human being just like the rest of us." I'm going to be responsible for the psychological trauma that she ends up with.
"Are you sure that this is the same guy that's across from me? Because you're describing some fallen angel, meanwhile the only thing that I see is a man that's as fucked up as the rest of us."
"You just don't understand him like I do Scarlett." Wait, hold up, I'm pretty sure I've heard more truth from him then the bullshit sob stories that he tells you during your sessions. He's not some lost puppy that got kicked while he was down, he is an incredibly intelligent man who's gotten under both of our skins somehow. "He is constantly asking about how my week has been." Sycophant. "He sees the error in what he's done." Conciliator. "He genuinely cares Scar, how can I be the only one who saw this?" It's a front hun, you have a degree for fucks sake, how were you so easily tricked?
I rolled my neck in frustration, the pops were oddly satisfying, and I figure why try to help when it's already gone too far? "Well if you feel like you're helping him, you're not by the way, then by all means carry on, mindlessly float in your delusion as he would say. Just don't forget to mention me in your book when you start writing."
She smiled at that comment, it was the kind of smile that was a cross between finding humor and unwanted truth in what you hear, part of me wants to take her out of the crossfire of this shit storm, but I can't. "I would love to include you, but that's only if you give me something to print, maybe get your side of the story out there, give society a reason to not only despise you but envy your skills." Funny thing is I just couldn't tell if I'm supposed take that seriously.
"You're joking right? Let me just start off by saying that I don't give two shits about society, they can all go fuck themselves, I don't need to explain myself to the people that are too engrossed in their own little worlds to notice the real world burning around them." That's just great, why the fuck do I let his mentality seep into my life?
Harley lowered her face down to my level so I could see her out of the corner of my eye, "why do you have such a bleak outlook on life huh? Were you one of those that had an awkward emo stage in high school, did you just never grow out of it? I could totally see you with the heavy lined eyelids and ripped band tees." Oh yeah I just never grew out of it so I left for the mountains to become highly trained killer.
"Honestly where did you get your degree, this sounds more like a slumber party then a therapy session."
She finished of the braid and tied the end with a hair tie, "Gotham Central University for your information, where did you get yours Scarlett?" Damn, good one. We stared at one another for a few seconds, she was waiting for a witty response, but I had none. "That's what I thought, I just want you to be able to talk to me Scar. You obviously don't respond to the normal questions so this is the only way I can get anything out of you." She went to sit back in her leather chair, the recorder was still kept on so she didn't have to pick her clipboard back up.
"Well that question is ridiculous so I'm not gonna answer it."
Her shoulders shrugged at my remark, "that's perfectly fine, would you rather I go back to the standard questions?"
No, "sure why not."
She grabbed a single sheet of paper from her clipboard and a pen, largely circling something before asking her question. "Tell me about your mom and dad." Do I have to?
"Ok fine what do you want to know about the two idiots who decided to reproduce?"
Her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth gaped open, "wait, you're actually willing to discuss this now? Why the sudden change of heart Scar?" See therein lies the problem, everyone thinks that people have a hidden agenda for everything.
"I'm just taking your advice hun, you're the one who told me that I would need to get things off my chest sooner or later. Are you upset that it's a bit sooner, was the suspense actually becoming fun for you? I can continue to keep all my secrets to myself if you'd prefer that." It's so easy, when you make people think they hold all the cards they can't keep up their poker face.
She just sat there and smiled, "I've actually never been one for surprises, so you can just tell me whatever you think needs to be said, and if I have any questions I'll ask them."
I pursed my lips and clicked my tongue a few times before deciding on the beginning of my story, "well, I was born in New Orleans, but we've already been over that, at that time mom and dad were both still in high school. Now the dynamic of their relationship didn't fit the whole high school sweetheart bullshit ideals. I really look at it this way, they were two stupid teenagers so in love with the idea of being in love, from what I was told they were constantly making huge plans for life after graduation, like anything they had was actually gonna last through college. Then I came into the picture, so those plans flew out the window, my grandparents disowned them, I've still never actually met them, and my parents lost any shot at their dreams, at least that's what I've always heard. Apparently everything fell to shit because of the mistake you see in front of you."
"Was there ever a time when they reflect any of their anger onto you?" Well look at you, now you're starting to sound like a psychiatrist.
"I was never abused if that's what you're asking me, well not physically any way, they blamed me for a shit ton of things, for example not being able to have any fun, never seeing their friends, having to waste money on my babysitter, just a bunch of trivial things. Mom didn't go to college the first six years of my life because she wasn't able to pay for tuition and a toddler. There were a lot of arguments about me being the parasite that ruined a perfectly good relationship."
"So just explain why I'm stuck at home while you actually have a life Michael, she's your fucking daughter too!" I was only five at this time, my skinny form was hiding in the hallway outside of the kitchen. I remember dad had just came home from being with some friends from college, the slamming of the door is what had woken me up. I couldn't tell at the time that he had been drinking, I didn't understand why he was his voice sounded so funny.
"Dammit Janie, I just got home, could you at least let me sit down before you start fucking yelling!" My tiny mind didn't understand the "bad" words that were being thrown around, if I remember correctly I got in trouble for saying those same words a couple of days later.
"No! No Michael, I am sick of staying at home, and you know what? Why the hell should I always have to watch her? You never fucking help me, everything I ask for ends in your sorry ass being too tired to do anything. I understand you work a part time job but you only have a few classes a day aside from that, there is no way you should be any more tired then I am. Do you really think she's such a joy to look after? It's exhausting, I'm exhausted, but I don't even think you give a shit!" I didn't think that I was that bad of a child to look after.
"You're right I don't give a shit! Do you wanna know why, because you did this to yourself, we had so many options before and after we had her, but no you're fucking conscience wouldn't let you do any of it. I talked about adoption, I talked about abortion, neither of us were ready for this, but you couldn't get off of your fucking high horse to handle the situation. So no I don't think I need to give a shit about your exhaustion!"
"I didn't know what either of those words meant until later on, I remember wanting to be a good kid for them, I wanted to be hugged a lot more instead of giving them, and I wanted to be someone they would be proud of. Now I can count on one hand the amount of times I've thought about them since I left." If Harley was stunned by my story she never showed it, but I know she had probably heard worse with J and other patients.
"Did your parents ever marry?" She made another circle on her paper.
I blew a piece of my newly cut bangs away from my face. "Yeah, they got married before I was even born. Thought that it was the "chivalrous" thing to do I suppose."
"What were your parents like when you got older?"
My nails scratched at one of my scars beneath the straight jacket, or at least tried to with the material. "They were more bitter and angry at each other, they yelled a lot more too, neither of them had the motivation to get a divorce though, personally I think it was because neither of them had the money to take care of themselves on their own, so my guess is that it was convenient. I was with my babysitter after school almost every day until I was able to take care of myself, both of them were out partying, trying to do what they could never experience with me. I'm pretty sure they loved one another at some point, I just never got to see that side of them."
Her hands were entwined over her knee, "what was your babysitter like?"
A smile made its way onto my face, "her name was Charlotte, she was in her...fifties I think. She was this really sweet old woman who volunteered to look after me, only because she knew that my parents couldn't afford a daycare or a nanny. You know the kind of people that bake cookies for the neighbours, just out of the blew for now reason?" Harley nodded, "that's exactly the kind of person she was, the person that you never hope to lose in your life."
I had just gotten off of the bus and Charlotte was already waiting for me at the bus stop. She had her ridiculously large bag on her shoulder, it more than likely held a bunch of useless crap that she would never need to use, "you always have to prepared," is what she would always say to me. I ran up and hugged her, she was the only person I had ever given hugs to, she was also the only person I ever received them from. Mom never had the time to give out hugs I guess.
"Hey sweetie, did you do well on your vocab test?" I looked down to the ground in shame, I had missed a lot more than I should have. "Oh come on now darlin' we studied those words all week, what happened?"
I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm just not smart Charlie, that's what the kids always say to me, some of them even call me a dumbass, they shouldn't say things like that, that's a really bad word isn't it?"
She shook her head, "yeah hun that's a very bad word and no those little brats shouldn't be calling anyone that, and I never want to hear that word again from you, understand?" I nodded my head, "now listen here, you are so, so smart for your age. Trust me I look at all of these kids in this town and they don't hold a candle to you Lanie, it may not show now but it will, I promise, you just have to keep doing your best."
"But I already do my best Char, what else can I do?"
"Sometimes our best isn't really our best because we believe that we have already given our best, therefore we don't give any more than that. Even if you think it's your best you can always give more, trust me darling, have I ever steered you wrong?"
"She was more of a mom than I deserved, I needed her, even if I didn't realize that until later. She even taught me how to cook, you know she trusted me with her secret family recipes, told me that I was as close to a daughter as she was ever gonna get. I still visited her, even when she stopped babysitting me, I learned more from her then anyone else in my life, even how to iron socks, as if I would ever need to know how to do that shit. She passed away right before I graduated, a couple of days after I asked her to come actually. I was the only one mentioned in her will surprisingly, it was a nice surprise though, she really did care."
Harley's face had completely changed, the change was instantaneous, all of her features dropped into an expression of sadness and disbelief.
"I-I'm sorry about...about your loss, you know I have started to notice that you seem very comfortable talking about death, can you tell me why that is?"
I shrugged my shoulders, "I just accepted the idea of death a long time ago. I never had a huge fear of the the unknown I guess. Charlie told me there were two things you couldn't escape from death and taxes. So why should we fear it? Plus there are too many things that could kill me, and after a while I just got tired of imagining the different scenarios in which I could possibly die. I feel like being afraid of death is like being afraid of your own shadow, it's always there and it's never going away so why should we even pay attention to it?"
She nodded her head "yeah, that makes sense." Well I try to, "what was school like for you?"
My eyes rolled at the memories, "insanely boring, incredibly stupid, and ridiculously long, it was filled with people whose idea of a fight consisted of yelling profanities across the lunchroom. For four years I was surrounded by idiots and immature assholes, I never spoke to anyone, never answered any questions, never raised my hand in class, not even once. I would spend my entire lunch period in the library because it was better than being stuck in a place that sounded like a mosh pit at a rock concert. Did you know that food fights actually existed in my school, it was one of the stupidest things I ever witnessed."
"So you never made any friends in high school, not even for a short while."
I leaned my head to the side and regarded her with a look that said, do I look like I make friends?
She inhaled a deep breath then pressed the stop button on the recorder. "Thank you for telling me all of this Scar, it really does give me a better understanding of you. Unfortunately our hour is up so just give me a minute to call the guards." Yeah I have all the time in the world, she stood and went to the phone.
"It's been a great session Harley, but I just have one question. How do you know if anything I just told you is true? After all on my first dayI told you that most of what I said would be a lie, didn't I?"
Don't ask me why but I really love writing patient interviews between Harley and Scar they are just so much fun! As always if you have any questions please don't hesitate to message me. Happy reading!