CHANGE OF HEART

Whilst dancing around about my new look, I clearly don't notice The Joker right behind me.

Suddenly, I fall to the ground and my eyes blur until I can only see darkness. Great...Good ol' Mister J isn't finished with me yet. Little did I know I soon found myself back on that damned surgery bed. The Joker is certainly unpredictable, I'll give him that. He uses his false charm to lure me into making changes to my appearance...and then still wants to kill me. Just like we were before, only this time he's given me the ability to speak.

For now anyway. I feel his hand touch my cheek, but it wasn't a smooth touch, it was violent. Physical. He...Just slapped me, I can feel the painful redness on my face. I spit blood out of my mouth, towards him. I want him to see my aggression, I bet it'll make him want to hit me again. I want to use this to my advantage, see exactly how he feels about the new me. Of course I haven't changed, It takes a lot more to break my mind. My psychiatric mind, to be precise.

"You're pathetic. Did you actually think I was just going to give you some makeup, a few hugs and then we'd become best friends? Idiotic, Doctor. I really thought you'd know better than that." he laughed, showing me a needle used for drawing tattoos.

And I sure as hell knew he wasn't a professional tattoo artist. This could get interesting, let's try a different approach.

"Well at least I can still call myself normal. What are you? Some kind of psychopathic clown? And what you did to me, I loved it, do it again...I want you to" I spat some more blood from my mouth, the hit from his palm really did a number on my jaw.

When he hit me, it hurt...but I liked it. It felt good.

"You're asking for more than just another slap, Quinzel" he wiped the blood off his cheek which I spat at him.

His smile turned into a frown.

"Aw, what's the matter, puddin?" I have never called anyone that.

I wanted him to buy my act though, make him think that i've changed when I really haven't. He doesn't seem that smart, but he is crafty.

"Don't call me that!" he yelled as he picked up a knife and put it to my throat. The typical love affair between the two of us, it's cute really.

"Why would you kill me if you love me?" I asked.

"Like I said, I'm not gonna kill ya. I'm gonna make you mine. Hurt you, a hell of a lot." he proclaimed, wielding the knife closer to my skin and getting his head nearer to my face.

I could tell he wasn't going to use the knife, he got that predictable so quickly. His torture is boring me now.

"Yeah, okay. Let me know how that goes. I don't love you, psycho. I will never love you, now if you'd kindly let me go I'd really appreciate it." I said, clearly the method was working as I saw his face crinkle up into an angry expression.

He was really angry.

"Okay. Okay, I see you're trying to be awkward. That's fine, we'll go with a more direct approach then." he placed the knife onto my forehead and sliced it open slightly.

Not very deep, didn't really hurt either.

"How does that feel?" he asked me, looking at the blood from my newly gouged scar.

It makes me laugh, the fact that he thought I was stupid enough to fall in love with him.

"If you're trying to impress me, you're failing miserably." I said sarcastically, the blood from the open wound slowly spread to the area beneath the cut.

"Harley, you're really pushing my patience. If you're not into knives. How about-" he paused, picking up some form of electro therapy device.

I know this device...we used them in Arkham for our patients rehabilitation treatment. I actually started to panic and sweat. I remembered these devices were used to fry a patient's brain and completely brainwash them! I'd lose all of my psychiatric knowledge! Heck, I wouldn't even know who I was anymore! Oh shit...I'd be his.

I would be his Harley Quinn.

How the hell did he get such a device? They were exclusive to Arkham Asylum!

"I think you know this device, Harley. You know what it does, right?" he finally caught me.

He finally cornered me into his dirty little trap, his arrogant mind thought this up from the start. Why was I provoking him? That didn't help me at all, it made things worse...a lot worse. I stay silent, though he can clearly tell I know exactly what this device does. And he can see I'm terrified. He's loving this.

"I think you do!" he said in a playful and annoying tone.

"So OK, let's say I use this device on you. What would happen to you? Would you die? No! You're way too much of a fighter for that. Though it'd probably sting, and you'd probably see me in a completely different light!"

He sparked the two ends of the device near my face and taunted me, he laughed. I cannot forget that distinct laughter he has, it sends shivers down my spine.

"Where...did you get that?" I asked nervously.

"Harley...you gotta be really stupid if you think I won't smuggle in some equipment from the treatment room. It wasn't even that difficult to get hold of, in fact...they let me have it! Your job at Arkham wasn't official. They were using you Harley, using your knowledge to try and 'fix' me. Well I don't need fixing! You...on the other hand, well you could do with fixing." he said, moving the two ends apart from each other.

The electricity current stopped...though his constant taunting didn't.

"That's not true! You're lying! Stop trying to make me into a freak like you!"

"Would I lie to you, Harley? Wait no...don't answer that." he paused.

He restarted the electricity current on the two ends and he was edging them closer to either side of my head. Oh my god...I was moments away from becoming his...his...his...girl- I stopped my line of thought...I couldn't think. I could feel my brain being erased, as each side of the device took hold of my thoughts and ripped them from my concious mind. My body began to shake within the restraints and then I blanked out completely. I have no thoughts. I don't know who I am, who he is or what I'm doing here. My brain is dead...and it hurts. It fucking hurts.

Both emotionally and physically, what he has done to me has scarred me for life. Now Harleen is dead, and Harley Quinn comes out to play...with my puddin! What? No... No! I have not lost my sub-concious, my knowledge...I will not give into the voice in my head.

The two ends were removed from either side of my head. I felt disorientated and dizzy.

And now, in a constant battle between my sanity and the clown. I've lost it... I've lost everything. This isn't who I am...who I was supposed to be. I squirm as my brain fights with itself. Shut up, Harleen! It's my turn ta do the narrating around here! Aw'right so Mistah J just freed me, about time, I was gettin' bored in that brain of hers. She just moans an' groans about her life and her sanity. Personally, this side of her is much better, much more fun, and fun is important. Gurl's gotta have fun to survive, y'know? I can't wait to see what Mistah J has planned for us next! Oh, why say us? It's just me now! Harley Quinn, pleased to meet ya!

"How are you feeling, my dear?" he asked me.

"So much better, Mistah J" I responded, smiling at his curiosity.

Ha, so if Mistah J did all of this for sweet little me then I must be important ta him right? Maybe my puddin has a surprise for me, I love surprises! Of course...how could he be sure that I wasn't fakin' again? He gotta make sure I'm really Harley and that the doctor lady isn't still in here, though I can tell she isn't. I killed her. Still...Mistah J is worth the pain, and he'll make sure I'm me before the real fun begins.

"You really did all of this for me?" I asked, curiously.

"Mhm, I wanted my Harley. So many girls have tried to be mine, but I always knew they weren't the Harley I was looking for...you though, you might just be. Still, gotta be sure...can't leave the experiment half finished now can we?"

His laughter sounded different, less grating and more insane. I should know Mistah J has another trick or two up his sleeve...and damn it's gonna hurt. I'm too obsessed for my own good now, and yet I can't seem to snap out of it. Harleen would be screaming her head off, but still that doesn't mean that Harley is gonna act like a stupid blondie, I got some intelligence still. My own kind. Hahahaha! Ok...that felt great... really great, my first maniacal instance of laughter, though it was in my head. I guess my puddin is unpredictable, dangerous and down-right insane...but that's what I love about him.

"Experiment? Is that all I am to you, puddin?"

Puddin sounds adorable, but I don't think Mistah J likes it. Hehe I think I like it though.

"Of course not! You're much more to me than that, Harley. But one thing" He paused and seemingly braced his palm to hit my face...again. "Don't call me puddin!" And I was right, because he did.

And it hurt, but I loved it.

"But...But...it sounds so adorable" I muttered to him.

OK, he wasn't happy with me calling him puddin, but that didn't mean I was gonna stop doing it.

He didn't respond to me, but he opened my restraints and let me walk free, if I wanted to. Of course I didn't, I got up and I hugged him. I touched his beautifully tattooed chest and unbuttoned his shirt, slipping it off him so I could see his body. He was covered in inked tattoos. Mistah J didn't fall for my flirting though, he pushed me away and groaned at me. I didn't understand why, I thought he wanted my affection.

He walked off, and picked up the tattoo needle. Oh goodie...tattoos, another thing Mistah J wants... but why won't he just accept his Harley for what I am? Sigh. I guess I haven't got a choice, plus I was pretty envious of his inks anyway. Yeah...OK, let's do it.

"You know, Mistah J. I always wanted you to tattoo me personally. Would ya do that for me?" I smirked, but his eyes didn't meet mine in the way I was planning.

"Of course...whatever you want, Harley" he rolled his eyes and looked at me.

"Whatever I want? Ok...I want you to stop tryin' ta change me!"

I wasn't happy with him, with his intentions or his decisions. I did have a choice, he gave me the choice. But if he wants it, then I'll grant it to him...if it makes him happy then that's all I want. I want my puddin to be happy.

The needle pierced my skin as the ink started being permanently added to my face. It hurt. I hoped he wouldn't tattoo something rude on me, now that'd be too mean...even for him. He tattooed a heart on my cheek. That was really sweet of him. Then he tattooed the word 'rotten' near my jawline. Rotten? I'm rotten to him? Oh! I get it. He tattooed damaged onto his forehead, and I'm his girl so I get rotten. Because my mind is that fucked up hahahaha! I actually could watch him tattoo me all day, it's fun. It's really nice that he cares enough to tattoo me personally. Ok, maybe he's not a professional but it's the little things girls appreciate in their boyfriends.

And my boyfriend is one heck of a boyfriend.

"Do you like them?" he asked, smiling.

"I love them, puddin!" his smile turned neutral.

But then he smiled again, maybe he finally accepted the nickname I gave him.

"It seems you're acting different. I hope this isn't the same act you pulled on me earlier, is it? Because if it is...then you better hope I kill you quickly."

Ok...he just threatened me...like properly threatened me. He still thinks i'm that loser Harleen...how can I prove it to him? Prove that I'm not who he thinks I am? I mean he fried my brain...how would it be possible to still be Harleen, or anyone for that matter. He is making me exactly how he wants me to be and that still isn't enough for him. I don't know what more I can offer him. Maybe Mistah J really does want to hurt me...or kill me. I panic. But then suddenly, I feel like I'm being shaken.

What...what's happening? I thought.