Melody Ginger used to be a scared little girl before the car accident that permanently damaged her brain and rid her of all feelings of fear. Craving the experience of human emotion again, she seeks out a particular doctor to help mend her mind in a quite unconventional way.
Chapter 2
TW: Mentions of self-harm.
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Melody awakes the next morning to the sound of her fiancés shuffling as he gets dressed for work. She sits up groggily, reaching to brush the sleep and other nastiness out of her eyes, and turns to John with a smile. She's so incredibly grateful to wake up to him each morning, especially currently. Over the last few weeks, she's learned quickly that he is one of the only people able to make her briefly forget about her regrettable situation, and more importantly, make her feel less numb.
"Oh, hey, morning," says John upon noticing her. "You look like you didn't sleep a wink last night, are you feeling okay?"
"I d-d-didn't," replies Melody, struggling to stifle a yawn. "I'm putting it on you. You didn't tire me out enough last night." She winks and flashes a toothy grin, with an obvious amount of allure embedded underneath her expression. John chuckles and comes toward her, embracing her in his arms and gently pressing his lips against hers.
"Well I'll be sure to do my job better tonight, then," he says with a slight growl.
"I'm sure you will," says Melody with a chuckle. "Oh ah, before you go, I was curious about something."
"Sex related or…?"
"Work related," says Melody shortly. "That shit going on with Crane, the dick that your office has been up your ass about-"
"What about him?" interrupts John with a sudden edge of curiosity.
"I was just wondering if your office had any idea of his whereabouts. You know… for… " She pauses, quickly inventing an alibi, "y'know, cause I wanted to go out today and I figured I should avoid wherever he's expected to be. Especially with my habit of wandering around the Narrows…" She bites her lip and glances up at her fiance, who's looking so stern that she's worried he might push her right out of bed.
"You know how I feel about that," he replies darkly.
"You know how I like to pay my tribute to the homeless," says Melody in a sing-song tone of voice. She exits the bed and stands up to begin undressing, ignoring the feeling of John's eyes boring a hole into her back as she turns opposite of him.
"Well, if it's any motivation to let the homeless fend for themselves for a bit, that's where he's been spotted last." John sounds gravely serious and his jaw is set in some kind of frustration, which Melody takes notice of. He's probably grinding his teeth, a bad habit he'd grown accustomed to whenever feelings of anger or irritability arose. "Mel, I want you to absolutely promise me that you will not go to the Narrows. On a regular day it's bad enough, but in these circumstances…" He trails off, and Melody grimaces at his use of the expression "these circumstances." It reminds her of the infuriatingly incompetent Doctor Meyers.
"I promise, babe," says Melody sweetly, fitting a shirt over her abdomen. After she's finished dressing, she turns to face John, who is standing by the door with a certain hesitance to leave. He looks undoubtedly uncertain, so Melody makes her way over to him and pecks him on the cheek. "Really, babe. Would I lie to you?"
XXX
Melody has always been intrigued by the Narrows, not fearful, even before her accident. Wandering their damp, unpredictable alley ways and investigating many of the tiny shops (in which many of them drugs were inevitably sold in the back rooms) had always giving her something of a rush, a sense of adventure, and immediate shot of adrenaline that was always able to heighten her senses and raise her blood pressure. While some people enjoyed rollercoaster's to achieve these sensations, Melody preferred to wander about questionable areas of the city. It made things interesting, if anything. And after being raised in the privileged white suburbs of Gotham until she was eighteen-years-old, stepping on the lesser privileged and living off whatever it his her father did to approach the height of wealth (she could never remember exactly, nor did she care to), anything even slightly interesting was enough to rattle her senses.
It is this exact reason that upon Melody's arrival to the Narrows, she is instantly infuriated.
When she steps foot into the Narrows, she does not feel that familiar rush or adrenaline or anything she was hoping she could still feel, at least to some extent. Her throat suddenly tied into a tight discomfort-inspired knot as she realized that she would never again feel said adrenaline. That she was incapable of physically producing the adrenaline that she so craved. That her amygdala was completely fucked up and not only had it taken the defense mechanism of fear away from her, but every other branching emotion as well.
She makes no effort to hesitate punching the nearest street lamp as hard as she can when her anger begins to overwhelm her. And even when she does gaze down on her ragged, bleeding knuckles and realizes that it's likely she may have potentially sprained them, she embraces the pain, rather than rejects it. At this point, physical pain gives her a very "real" feeling that she had grown distant from since her accident. Without fear, as unpleasant as it could be, she does not feel real.
And without the help of a certain psychotic ex-psychiatrist, it's very likely possibility she that will never feel real without some sort of physical stimulation ever again. Her mind wanders briefly back to her days in junior high, where her peers would deliberately cut themselves then show off their scars as though they were a trend, or a new tattoo, something to be proud of. But then there were certain individuals who would gaze around with obvious discomfort at the mention of the topic, pulling their sleeves high above their wrists to cover whatever was hidden underneath. She knew they were the ones who were really suffering, even at such a young age. But still, she could never wrap her head around ever hurting herself to ease emotional pain. She never understood how exactly that worked, but now, eight years after the incidents in junior high, she's finally beginning to comprehend what it did and how it was useful. And even worse, she's considering it.
"Hey, hey-ya, girlie!" Melody brushes her fingers over her cut up hand and rubs the blood between them before looking up. Ahead of her, nearby the entrance of an alley, is a thin, torn-up old man with several rows of crooked, yellowing teeth, and a unibrow to top it off. "Girlie, didja hear me?! You look like a, ah, well-respected young citizen. These kids back here need help! Lend a hand, would you?" He smiles a crooked, nervous grin in her direction, and Melody nods before coming toward him.
"Where are they? The kids?"
"Couple uh alleyways down! Follow me!" He begins sprinting down the street behind him, and Melody struggles to keep up, mentally noting to herself that she should considering working out more, especially if she can't even keep up with an emaciated homeless man. After trekking down a series of alleyways, the sound of shrieking and sobbing in the distance becomes evident, and eventually they reach a vacant parking lot where one teenaged boy stands crying and begging and raking his fingernails against his skin in order to rid himself of something that no one else can see. His friend kneels beside him, clutching the boy by his shoulder, shaking him and shouting, "James, you're okay! James, it's not real. You got this, buddy, it's all gonna be okay. You'll come outta this soon enough…"
Melody kneels down beside the boy, panting slightly. "Who did this?"
"That nut job on TV!" shrieks the homeless fellow. "The Arkham escapee!"
"Crane? Crane was here?" says Melody. She gazes around erratically, as though to catch site of Crane somewhere in the distance, but when she spots no one, she asks in a hurry, "Where is he? Which way did he go?"
The homeless man points to the left, down a particularly sinister-looking alleyway. Not that Melody cares. "In that direction of sorts! But you're… you're not thinking of going after him, are ya? He eats girls like you for lunch!"
Melody pays no response to the man, but instead immediately begins sprinting in the direction he'd gestured to, amazed at her suddenly ability to run when it is something she wants that she's running after. She eventually reaches the supposed alleyway Crane has disappeared into, and searches every corner, but when she could not find any other trace of human life, she emits a pitiful groan of frustration and shouts, "Crane! Johnathan Crane!"
A beat.
"JOHNATHAH CRANE!" she screams.
When she is once again given no response, she attempts a different method.
"Scarecrow!"
There's a rustle in the corner of the alleyway. Melody approaches the sound quickly, as though she were hunting game and didn't want to scare it off. "I know you're there," she says loudly.
Moments later, a figure emerges from the shadows, and she's pleased to see it is exactly the man she's looking for.
The pair stand several feet apart. Melody examines him, taking note of the canisters attached to his wrists. She assumes that their contents are his infamous fear toxin, which means trouble for her, but she's rather indifferent about the whole thing.
"You're taller in person," says Melody calmly.
Without hesitation, Scarecrow makes a swift movement, dousing Melody with a particularly fierce dose of his toxin. Rather than witnessing any particular fear or phobia, she simply feels foggy and dizzy, and her surroundings begin to unravel before her. Colors are misfit, the alleyway is spinning in complete circles, and small black dots begin swimming in her vision.
Before she can realize what exactly is happening, she collapses to the ground with a sickening thud.
XXX
Read and review please :3
Also, after I reviewed this chapter I realized that about halfway through it, I completely switched from second person POV to third person POV without noticing. I looked back and corrected everything I could, but if I missed a few things, please don't be too hard on me. I'm far better with third person POV and first person POV, but because I rarely use second person POV, I'm trying it out for this story.