Chapter 5: Lose Yourself

It had been around sixteen years since Selina had last finger painted. The blending of various acrylics on one large sheet of paper perched on a tall, wooden easel in front of the feeble woman really brought back old and long-lost memories. All she had been using in the last fifteen minutes were darker hues, particularly black and touches of gray. She was doing her best to smear out a sloppy portrayal of her old flame, Bruce Wayne, but in his legendary mask over that flawless, handsome, pretty-boy face.

Then again, perhaps painting her ex wasn't the best idea, for it only brought up those old and dismal memories, intensifying her perpetual thirst for gratification. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks once she was completed. The replica of his mask was not portrayed too well, and she reckoned a fifth grader could paint better than what she came up with, but it looked accurate enough to make her reminisce in sorrow.

She had to take her view elsewhere after a minute of gawking at her artwork that resembled the man whom she could never have. She thanked her rare lucky stars that her artistic skills weren't any more enhanced than what they currently were, for her eyes would have really worked the waters then. Beside her, Britney was humming delightfully to herself, sloppily flinging random colors all over her sheet, then topping off her splayed collage by writing "FUCKIN' PERFECT" in bold lettering with black paint. Selina admired her friend's ability to express herself carelessly. She yearned to experience her non-prevalent shame and bold attitude. She didn't find anything about her to be 'crazy' or 'mentally ill'. She was just a lively woman, really.

Britney nodded triumphantly at her work, dropped her paint-covered brush into the water cup used for rinsing, which she never used considering the single, fused mess of hues spread all over the large sheet, then she gifted her new roommate beside her with a proud, beaming smile.

"It's a Pink song. She's a major inspiration of mine." She eyed-over Selina's work briefly and gave her a thumbs-up before continuing. "I can relate to the woman in soo many ways, I can't even name alla' 'em. She once said that she is a "reformed slut", and one day, I kinda hope to become one as well."

"Hm, you're not reformed?" Selina giggled, already knowing the answer to that very well, though she'd only known her for three hours.

"Of course not, but I am a slut."

Selina laughed complimentarily in return. "...The Batman?" You like 'im?"

Selina felt her face heat up at the mention of her ex. Eidetic memories of his excessively attractive body ran a brief course through her mind. "...Well, yeah. I kinda do."

An accusatory snigger lingered back her way. "Fangirl."

Dinner that night was not much tastier than what was served for lunch that day. Hard and thick hamburgers with nearly expired buns were served fit for not even a homeless person. Selina was so disappointed with that night's menu that she decided to resort back to her old habit of fasting, which she did constantly in her teens. She took the lightest sips of her low-fat chocolate milk (that was also just a few days from going rotten) while her blonde buddy with a tall, lithe body and the perfect tits chattered her ear off about her upsetting, white-trash childhood growing up in a mobile home with her aunt, Deedee. She had learned that her blatant persona comes from the one who raised her from ages three to nineteen. Her dad was in jail for armed robbery, assault and battery and even suspicion of murder. He may have been in for life, not that that really mattered, though, for he was negligent towards his daughter and her mom anyways. Selina was beginning to feel increasingly connected to her roommate by the hour; they related to one another in so many ways. The recklessness, pessimism, abusive fathers, clinical blues, lack of a high school diploma, and the raunchy spirits.

Britney's mom was an alcoholic who had a chronic addiction to crack cocaine. She too, once her daughter had turned three, was arrested in a penitentiary not far from her father's. She was then taken into care by her doting and kind, yet redneck aunt. Being her mom's sister, she too had taken on a few unhealthy habits as well, though nothing as hazardous as godforsaken crack and the neverending six packs of Blue Moon. Rather, a decent stock of marijuana that occupied the entirety of the main closet under fluorescent lights, and many, many cigarettes throughout the years.

"Let's play a game, Lina. I wanna see who did what first...you know, at the youngest age."

Selina smirked playfully and bargained "What's the winner get?"

Britney leant upright from her slouched position and crossed her arms coolly. "Dignity."

The newcomer nodded and shrugged in response. At this point, she felt that she could be open with her on just about anything.

"How old were ya when you started smoking?" Britney immediately blurted "Twelve!" in response to her own inquiry.

"Awe...fourteen, in a bathroom at a 7-11. I had a friend who'd been doing it for quite some time, I guess. I decided to try it out...just to be cool, really. I loved being rebellious."

"HA! Me too! Shit, I was such a hoe in my teens. So, when'dya swipe your V-card?"

Silence that followed allowed Selina to put forth her reply first. "Fifteen. God, it was horrible. He was rough with me, too. I don't think I knew him very well. I think his name was Marcus or something like that. I know it happened in the back of his van somewhere in downtown Compton. He was like five or six years older than me."

Selina was stricken with obfuscation at just how much she could reveal about her own past. She'd just kept on talking, even when she didn't need to.

"Fourteen and a half, bebe. Happened in a Porta-John at the county fair, God knows where. We really are alike," Britney confirmed proudly.

Her next collection of ponderings all seemed to affiliate with their pasts, and what they had and hadn't done, (just kidding, they'd done everything) and at what age they had committed to those things. Britney 'won', obviously. She was born to be wild, so she had been from the start.

As for Selina, she actually had to grow into it; find her path, her road, if you will. She had taken many wrong routes and travelled deep down the paths of inevitable peril. While in her teens she may have just been a frequent cutter of class and ultimately school altogether, she, in her early adulthood, had been taught the laws of theft, as well as criminality. She had been provoked, inspired and persuaded by the currently deceased Pamela Isley, who often went by her undercover calling, 'Poison Ivy'. She had been around nineteen when she met her at a slum of a nightclub. Pamela had been engaged in many illegal acts, then being under FBI search and look-out. Selina, with her sly personality and even ambition to get what she wanted, helped the tall, redheaded woman rob a bank. They had made it out, simply, in fact. Selina had been complimented on how swift her escape was, reminding Pam of a feline with her agility and concise movement. She had been recommended the calling of 'Catwoman' and here we are now.

Selina had always felt a great amount of respect for her alter ego. Catwoman was brave, agile, witty, and seductive. Against any sane person's better judgement, she saw herself as none of those. She felt that her and her inner conscious were almost two different beings. She did not hear voices, ever, or see hallucinations. She could be the Kitty Lady whenever and however she wanted to. Except now, while trapped in a mental institution rampant with security armed with sedatives and straight-jackets. She knew this suffocating house of the mad would only make her weaker while in captivity. On a brighter note, she finally made a new friend after four years of living the loner's life.

Selina was not too ashamed to have lost that particular bet, due to its nature. She was thankful that she was not the biggest whore around, or the most rebellious. The notion had made her feel more whole; worthy of society, perhaps. Even clean.

She rested her head in her right hand and closed her eyes. This had been a long day full of many new experiences, and she was definitely ready for bed. Britney noticed that Selina had taken just a couple bites of her burger, and left all of her fries untouched.

"Hey, you gonna eat that?"

…

Selina was up past midnight listening to her new pal chat away. She didn't even really know what about; just random matters, really. She was adoring Britney and her little antics more and more as the hours ticked away, but she had to admit that she could be somewhat of a nuisance. With her never ending motor-mouth specifically. She could use a little silence at this point, yet she didn't want to offend this woman. The last thing she needed was the end of another friendship.

The Cat had been shaken awake from a dead sleep that following morning. She groaned and turned from her position facing the wall. She rubbed her eyes before opening them to be surrounded by a stinging blur of light.

"What time is it?" Selina sighed, still fatigued greatly.

"It's seven. Our room's are buzzed when it's time for us to get our asses up."

She turned her back on her to gather fresh clothing from her dresser along with a towel and other toiletries. Selina leant upright and drew her dry and hazy eyes to her own dresser. She groggily brought herself to her feet then pondered whether or not her drawers were filled with fresh clothing. The top drawer had neatly folded stacks of deep orange shirts and the second contained the sweatpants.

Britney tossed a white towel her way along with a small bar of soap wrapped up in plastic — luckily unopened, much to Selina's preference. She was also handed a medium sized container of shampoo, and no conditioner, which was not good for her case, considering her thick curls that needed nourishment and plenty of it just to keep them from frizzing.

Selina scornfully studied her shower materials. "What the hell is this? No Pantene? Paul Mitchell? Herbal Essences? God, this isn't even Dove, is this?"

Britney chuckled whimsically in response. "Hmph, nah, girl. This is a poorly funded nuthouse. Of course we get shit-products here."

Selina then noted the absence of a razor. "And...what out a razor? How are we supposed to shave?"

A vociferous deadpan ensued. "We, eh, don't." She then stared down at Selina's wrists and smirked to really imply her message. "In your case, it's probably for the better."

Selina heaved a protesting groan, but knew that she was right. She would just have to make do with her disconcerting stubble that irked the hell out of her and made her feel like a human cactus.

The valiant blonde strutted the few steps necessary over to the door and swung it open with verocity. "To the showers, Leen."

With another sigh of dejectment, she sluggishly followed her roomie out the door and down the hall towards the elevator. In there with them were four other women, two normal and two blubbering loons. Selina frowned upon the thought of being around these mentally ill-mates any longer than a few months, and due to her circumstances she would probably be spending more than a ninety days here. No, she had months, maybe years to get to know these girls, and she was dreading it.

A parade of women were filing into the single doorway one by one. Selina had presumed that they'd all be getting their own personal shower stalls, but the only thing they had gotten to themselves were the lockers that faced the entrance, quite the hoard of them, all in rows of five. To the right upon entering was one large shower area, and no stalls besides the walled toilet area. Selina felt panic stream through her.

"Um...wait, so, we all shower...together?"

Britney opened up her locker and replied her usual chortle of bemusement. "You bet, Selly. Like I said, we're not rich, therefore, we can't all have our own special treatment, y'know?"

Selina was still pale-faced at the discovery. The thought of showering with one large crowd of people had always given her the willies, for inexplicable reasons. She'd've rather bathed alone, thanks, in her own little area in private, and then redressed by the lockers in her own little corner as well. Despite her suicidal tendencies, she still had a little shame.

"Eh...I think I'm just gonna wait until the group clears up a little…" Selina mumbled to her friend, who was by now completely stark. Selina looked over to face Britney, and was taken aback at how quickly she had stripped. Selina couldn't help but feel jealous for her beauty. She had the best breasts a girl could have, at least two cups larger than Selina's. She also envied her ideally proportioned buttox and long, slender legs. She blushed when she realized she had been staring like a horny pervert. Britney merely laughed and blew off whatever her overly-cautious acquaintance was feeling abashed over.

"You better not. We only get twenty-five minutes in here, hon. No point in waiting, and it's really not too bad anyways." She smiled valiantly and looked past her shorter friend's shoulder, towards the batch of naked breast and vagina-clad crazies. She then turned her gaze back onto Selina and said "Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted, one moment, would you capture it? Or just let it slip?"

She sashayed past her after really slamming her locker with unnecessary force, gaining the attention of the entirety of the shower room. "Yo!" she hollered once under the watering jets.

"Her palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. There's vomit on her sweater already; mom's spaghetti, she's nervous, but on the surface she looks calm and ready to drop bombs, but she keeps on forgetting what she wrote down-"

The other women chipped in "The whole crowd goes so loud. She opens her mouth, but the words won't come out. She'd choking, how? Everyone is joking now, the clock runs out, times up, over, BLAOH! Snap back to reality oh, there goes gravity, oh, there goes rabbit, she choked, she's so mad, but she won't give up that easily, no, she won't have it, she knows, her whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter she's dope, she knows that, but she's broke, she's so stagnant, she knows when she goes back to her mobile home that's when it's back to the lab again, yo, this whole rhapsody better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass her. You better-"

Selina smirked in recognition. Yes, she was an avid listener of the Hip Hop artist, and Lose Yourself just so happened to be one of her favorites from him. They were on a roll with the lyrics, only making petty alters to the he's, changing them to she's.

It wasn't necessarily the scene of thirty women, more or less, busting moves and flailing their arms around while scrubbing away at their bodies with cheap soap and flopping tits that inspired Selina to join the others in the shower; it was the merry spirit of it all. Just the way they turned this awkward and usually uncomfortable situation into something more exciting. It was nice to see that they could all blissfully croon out one of Eminem's hits like a bunch of inebriated bimbos. Frankly, the view was enticing.

She shyly removed her generic uniform as well as her own undergarments, that she'd have to get washed fairly soon. At least she had brought a fresh pair of tighty whities from her bottom drawer, considering the visible cleanliness of them, yet she still didn't trust those worn-looking and slightly stained bras that laid in her third drawer down. Then she removed her bandages from her wrists, eyeing over her recent marks that were still noticeable enough to draw attention. At least she wasn't the only suicidal woman here. She'd already seen a least twenty other girls with marred wrists and arms. She was far from alone.

Now bare and vulnerable all over, she steadily strayed over towards the party of gleeful inmates. She kept her distance while underneath her own showerhead that sprayed lukewarm water down on her. She had to cherish this feeling more than any other girl in here, for it had been nearly five whole days since her last cleansing session. She almost viciously scrubbed her small bar of soap all over herself—legs, arms, underarms, chest, stomach, backside, and anywhere else that needed a thorough cleansing. Selina peered over at the women jumping around like fools and singing triumphantly while allowing plenty of soap bars to fall to the ground without a care. Selina decided to not partake in any of that for now. It wasn't like she really knew any of them aside from Britney, who was leading the chorus, just as she had commenced it. What really bothered the Cat was the fact that her tube of shampoo wasn't even labeled, minus a potentially misleading inscription of 'Medical Shampoo'. The issue was, Selina's hair was naturally curly, and needed specific brands for treatment, as her former hair stylists had always told her. On top of that, it needed to be conditioned, with a considerable amount of conditioner. Selina's favorite brands had always been Pantene and Paul Mitchell, for her hair, since they had shown promising results after each usage over the years. But now that she was deprived both company brand shampoo and conditioner of any kind, she was at risk of snarly, unkempt and fuzzy tresses. That would be quite a downfall on her part, since her hair had been one of the few traits she actually enjoyed about herself.

She sighed again just as she had done countless times earlier in the fifteen minutes she had been up and about, and squirted a pool of soap into her palm, then began to massage it into her thick locks. It hardly sudsed up, to her fear, and it lacked even the faintest scent. Not even a trace of vanilla could be smelt in this lousy product. Selina had stepped out from under the stream before anyone else really had, for they were all taking their swell time belting out popular song lyrics. She could say that Britney had certainly been the best vocalist amongst the other amateurs. She assumed that her animated personality just resulted in charming vocals as well, and that seemed to make sense. In all actuality, Selina could sing talentedly as well, though she had yet to admit to she had a defiant streak delved deep into her heart, she could also be outwardly mellow. She blamed her depression for this, and she felt that it was holding her back from living a satisfactory life. Whenever these thoughts swam around in that cluttered mind of hers, she couldn't help but crave a few antidepressants, to soak up that pain and make her feel content, even if she was alone.

It felt good to dress in fresh clothing after a much needed shower. She despised everything about the required outfit, the color, the look and the mere fact that it was exactly what all of the other women wore. In layman's terminology, it was just pathetic. Yet, she knew she would have to force herself to adjust to them, as well as life in this prison disguised as rehab.

Britney, now sopping wet and pridefully nude, skipped over to the clothed Cat while reciting the final bits of 8 Mile's award winning single. She wrapped a towel around her supple frame then slung an arm over her friend's shoulder and assured "You can do anything you set your mind to, girl."

…

The remainder of that day was ordinary and altogether boring. Just more 'activities' and discussions of their home's gals with mental issues. Britney was quite the gossip, Selina had noticed. She willingly spoke on about everything and anyone. She only feared the time to come when she would speak badly of her behind her back. Judging her nonchalance regarding other's feelings, she knew this was bound to happen.

At least they wouldn't criticize her, too badly anyway. They were all technically unstable 'up there', so what right would they have to laugh at her suicidal inflictions? None. They could only chastise themselves.

While that Tuesday was uneventful for the most part, Selina knew that her Wednesday would be a little more interesting. A certain middle-aged therapist would be in for something really special that morning at 9:40, and he'd be in for some action he hadn't experienced in at least fifteen years.

"Let's revisit that discussion on your father. I've looked over my notes from our first meeting, and I speculate that he may have been the one to provoke your depression."

His office was stuffy and the air was thin. Selina was feeling edgy for her upcoming enactment. Would she really pull this off? How would he react?

"I do not want to discuss that old asshole right now," Selina admonished, rolling her eyes in a purely stultifying manner. He coughed lightly to clear up the tense factors already brewing. They weren't even three minutes in session yet and she was already giving him trouble. The peskier patients were always more difficult to cope with, after all.

He folded his hands over her folder and briefly contemplated what to suggest. "That's fine, Selina. We can always hold off on that. Now, I think we should go over your medication that you will need to take. The order should be in by tomorrow morning, so we can get them into your system as soon as possible."

"Whoa, now, you think I'm gonna pop your little drugs just so I can 'feel better'? I'm not taking shit, Frederick. You can forget it."

Furrowed eyebrows returned her way, then a constructive argument. "Selina, they are mere antidepressants. Thousands of people out there take them, and they do nothing to hinder your behavior or personality. They are made to reconstruct the chemical activity in your brain so your depression can alleviate and your thoughts of suicide can dimin-"

"I said no. If you think those things are going into my body, then they'll have to be forced down my throat." Selina gave him a hard stare to indicate her seriousness. He wrote a few things down after her declaration.

"I'm hoping it doesn't have to come to that…"

Selina scoffed and crossed her arms. So far, it was challenging to feel anything towards this man. He was so professional and dull in complexion. It was no wonder he was single. He probably hadn't had a woman in years. At that consideration, Selina smirked schemingly to herself. She stood from her seat in front of him while he was writing down the last of his notes. She was going to pique some entertainment here in the seconds to come, and if she succeeded in intriguing the older doc in return, then therapy would be something she always looked forward to.

"You know…" She swayed around his desk, her hands resting on her slim yet full hips, and her gaze extremely suggestive. He looked up quizzically at her and halted his scribbling in the middle of his sentence. Before he had the chance to react, she was on his lap, legs spread apart and her position close to a straddle. His green eyes went wide and his face had tinged a deep red color from his prior ivory cheeks. "I can guess that you must get bored cooped up in this little office all day long, with nothing to do but jot down insane people's drabble and bullshit that they have to bitch about. I don't care if you tell me otherwise, Dr. Freddy, 'cause I know you hate what you do." She grabbed his hand and yanked his pen from his grasp, allowing it to clink to the desktop. She then scanned his fingers purposefully to initiate her upcoming point. "I see you're not married...I can assume that you're alone…"

"Selina-"

"Don't retaliate, babe. I know you're feigning for a woman's touch." She leaned in and planted a light kiss on his scruffy cheek. She continued her gesture on his other cheek with light stubble that only added on to his sex appeal before he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back, but not enough to knock her off of his lap.

"This is completely inappropriate!"

"I know," she cooed, then acted quickly, pressing her lips to his. "Makes it more fun in way. Introduces a little mutiny in your life. Some enticement, even." She ran her lips along his, that would not budge. He firmly compressed them despite her tongue that was running along them, trying to get in. She adjusted herself more properly and ran fingers into his brunet hair than was sprinkled with strands of peppery-gray. She felt a large hand snake around her upper back, then yank the back of her shirt with swift precision.

"I could lose my job. Get off."

She had seen his more spiteful side with that tone. Of course, he didn't really care for his patients, he just needed his income. That should have been obvious from the start.

"Who's gonna know? You think I'm gonna brag about this, Henry? Please, like I'd gossip about sex with you! But...I guess if you really want to play by the rules...be a good man and do as mommy says...then I'll go ahead and-"

He cut her off by reeling her in and crashing his sexually deprived mouth into hers. She shakily fumbled around in his lap before he wrapped his arms around the small of her back and steadied the troubled woman onto his lap. He had taken her into his arms fully and contributed his jaw, lips and tongue to her. Light groans erupted from his throat as they made out. She gently rocked herself into him, eventually feeling a certain hardness in turn. After a couple more minutes of passionate lip-thrashing and prying at one another's cheeks and shoulders, he lifted her up and roughly shoved her onto his desk, then leaned over her. He gripped her waist and got in-between her legs while still fully clothed, though the removal of clothing would be coming up shortly. Her cheeks flushed at the quick escalation of things, and she almost felt iffy about going all the way with him so soon, albeit his contrary beliefs. He represented his carnal urges by grinding himself into her middle while giving her neck hard kisses. She panted both nervously and pleasurably and he ran his rough hands up her back and was just a few seconds away from ripping apart the bindings of her bra.

His lips were on hers again when the door was thrown open.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Henry, but we've got a code red on the western section on-"

He hadn't acknowledged his bosses presence for the whole of ten seconds. He removed his lips from his patient's with a light trail of saliva then gazed up horrifically at the stunned Director. Once all realization had struck he removed himself from his position on the woman he was about to screw against his desk and awkwardly adjusted his glasses up the bridge of his nose then straightened his tie, while Selina kept her place on his desk.

The woman at the door blinked in amazement to rid her trance and gave her top therapist a very addled facade. She took a few steps back out into the hall while keeping her glare on the blushing man who'd just been caught in the act. His worst fear had just come true.

"J-Joan, I - I can explain-"

"I'll be seeing you in my office, Henry." She then cleared her throat and gave him a nasty scowl of disapprovement. "I'll let you two finish up." She then closed the door and footsteps became distant.

The room grew silent. Selina was feeling almost as uncomfortable as him. "Um...wanna talk about my dad?"

Joan Leland's office was never a comfort zone for staff nor patients. After the former Director, Dr. Jonathan Crane, was divested of his position for going against just about every one of their policies with his nifty fear toxin and its illegal use on patients and the general public alike, the psychopharmacologist from the upstate Preston Mental Institution had been chosen to take his place. She was in her forties with an unflattering pixie cut, peppery hair, hard blue eyes and an attitude from the pits of hell. In other words, she was an authoritarian bitch. She was in charge of the patients' placement and care. She was the one who sentenced solitary confinement if needed, and she was the one to assign a patient to a therapist. She rarely considered her doctor's thoughts or concerns regarding the facility, and did things to her own accord, which was usually done with austere measures, similar to her predecessor, actually. Really, Arkham hadn't seen a decent Head since the running of Elizabeth Arkham herself decades ago. Now, it seemed as if only the corrupt had authority to be in charge of the substandard home for the mad.

The woman in charge marched around her office with her arms crossed around her back while censuring the man who had damn nearly gotten into an inmate's sweatpants. This was beyond serious. He sat stupefied in his seat before his bosses desk, his thoughts consumed with remorse and anticipation for what was to come. He knew this little act had been the conclusion of his career, and it was too soon for retirement. He was only fifty-two.

"I must admit, I am astounded that you would be one to sleep with your patients, Henry. You seemed like such an honest, humble man. Been working here, how long, the past twenty-three years? My, what a way to end all of that hard work…"

"Please, Joan, she - she came on to me! They do that sometimes, a-and I hadn't the chance to contact security-"

"Hush, Henry. Don't think me an idiot! I suppose that all these years of promiscuous female patients just throwing themselves at you finally made something click within you. You just couldn't refrain, could you?"

"Joan-"

"No, the deed is done. You've made your choice, and now you are going to pay the fee. You've made yourself a terrible example for others, and I cannot allow you to continue your work here."

"God, please, Joan! I assure you that it will not happen again!"

"You are dismissed, Mr. Frederick."

Without further ado, he stood and trudged out of his former employer's office. Meanwhile, the Head took her seat at her desk and went through their newcomer's file. There didn't seem to be anything particularly unique about the girl, just another depressed woman who'd tried to end her life at twenty-five years. She'd need a new therapist, but that would take a couple days to get her acquainted with a good one. According to the woman's behavior, she'd have to be added onto Joan's list of patient's who needed to be watched closely. She decided that it'd be best to meet this woman as well, maybe first-handedly prepare her next therapist for what he'd be dealing with. Along with that, she wanted to see if there was something more awry going on in this woman's chemistry aside from the suggested depression, for that seemed to be likely.

A/N: On a side note, I'll verify that very much conditioner is needed for curly hair, for I have it myself..te he

Thank you for reading. Review? I'd like to know how this is going.

(I may be moving this story to my other account, though it's not official for the time being.)