Feathers That Won't Fly

Chapter XI Harley Quinn

Angelica Quinn Harland woke up to a world she couldn't relate to.

Why am I here? She thought.

Only it wasn't her thought.

"Where are you?" Quinn Harland shouted.

She must be insane. There's no one with her, she thought.

"I'm not insane!" Quinn yelled in anger. She was horribly confused. Which was horribly unusual for her, as she had not even flinched at the first hint of losing the Earth to a species that are most definitely not human.

Angelica Harland was intelligent in the field of nothing, yet she had been an A student in every subject with no trips or stumbles. Miss Harland had quite a mindset--not to fail. Known as Angelica Quinn Harland to her angry parents, Quinn to her happy parents, Angelica to new teachers, Quinn to old teachers and acquaintances, and Harley Quinn to herself and closest friends, Angelica Harland had quite an arrangement of names. Angelica was born as Angelica, her mother believing she would grow up to be the perfect display of feminism and beauty, but as Angelica grew older, she leaned toward being a Harland. Her father was delighted to see his only child acting like him, dressing in casual clothes, never daring to touch a dress or even a ruffled shirt. But, Harland could not stand to please just one parent, she must please both. Harland became Quinn, as the name was a unisex one and displayed defiance. She would now wear casual clothes, but occasionally she would dare to touch a dress and sway in ruffles, but she was not Angelica, nor was she Harland. She was in between: Quinn. I bet you're wondering where Harley Quinn came from. Batman. Just batman. Because batman is awesome. And because Angelica Harland has names in her name to make Harley Quinn work.

What? How can you hear me? she thought.

"Where are you?! You're in my head aren't you?! Am I crazy?!" Quinn panicked. She didn't fear anything, not death, not torture, not oblivion. She didn't think she feared anything--until now that is.

No. Listen to me. I'm inside you right now. My soul is inside your body because I have a special talent. You must too, because nobody else can even get a hint of my presence when I perceive, she thought. Or rather, a girl thought.

Quinn wrinkled her nose and decided not to answer. If she wasn't dreaming, she was insane, and she wasn't giving in to it.

The day was new, but there was no light flooding through any windows in the Harland's household. Well, their place of residence at least.

Quinn walked into her bathroom and placed a clammy palm on the cool metal of the faucet handle. She then let cool water run through her fingers, lost in thought, but not thinking about anything at all. Her hand knocking against the hard counter top surrounding the sink bowl was enough to bring her back to reality. She splashed the water on her face, rubbing in her eyes to get the sleep out. It still felt like sleep was in it. A fantastical girl was supposedly hammering her yells into Quinn's poor brain.

"Quinny?"

A pretty lady with bouncy blonde curls poked her head through the bathroom door. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, mom," Quinn answered. "I just woke up with a bad headache."

"Oh, do you want some Advil?" The bouncy curls lady asked.

"No." Quinn shook her head. "No medicine."

The girl was screaming louder and louder. What was she saying? No. It didn't matter. She wasn't real. The headache was sure real. Her heart was beating through her brain and she thought it might burst out of her skull.

Quinn's mother nodded her head and sauntered off to the kitchen where her husband was waiting for her.

A plain round light wood table and the chairs of the three bears sat in the center of a plain kitchen. There was little light, but a hunched figure was most definitely occupying the papa bear chair. Papa bear was pretty grumpy.