The Gotham Queen

Chapter 2

After telling the woman all my basic information, she hands me an ID card to replace the temporary one they sent through the mail.

Was the first one really just supposed to be used to get you through the front door? What was the point?

To me, that just seems like a total waste of paper, but maybe I can keep it just in case I lose this new one somewhere. I'm very prone to losing my things, even when I try not to.

The guard, who's name I still don't know, says goodbye to me before walking away. This dude really just left me with the rude woman without a second thought. The woman stands and comes around the desk, grabbing a clipboard along the way.

I thought she already wrote everything she needed down, so what else is there left to write?

"Follow me, Dr. Quinzel." She says as she passes me, and I have jog to catch up with her fast pace.

"Are we really in that much of a hurry? What's the rush when I don't even have my assignments yet?" I ask the woman curiously as I practically speed walk behind her, but she ignores me as she keeps walking and talking.

"Welcome to Arkham Asylum, the facility built to help the criminally insane reintegrate with society." She says in a blank voice, and I look around the hallway that we are walking down in hopes of trying to get my baring's straight.

More and more of the same blank dirty off-white walls and floor greet me, and I have to force myself to keep from doing anything to add even just a little bit of color. I look ahead once again and catch her eyeing me up and down in a judging way, making me frown a bit.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" I ask her and look down at myself, wondering what I could possibly have done wrong already. "Did I miss a stain on my clothes earlier? Am I dressed wrong or something?"

"Nothing like that. Just wondering what made you decide to work here of all places. Most people go out of their way to avoid coming here at all costs." She tells me in that same dead tone, and I chuckle as I realize that wanting to work in a place like this must seem a bit strange to people.

"That's an easy one to answer. I've always been fascinated by extreme personalities. I truly want to know what goes through a psychopath's head and figure them out. No one is born with thoughts of harming and killing another person. There is always a reason or cause behind every action a person does, and I want to know theirs." I tell her honestly, and she looks at me like I should be the one locked up instead of the deranged psychopaths.

I want to help people get better so they can get a chance to live the life they deserved to live in the first place. I may not get to control what my life is like, but I can at least help others get control of theirs. What's so wrong with that?

"These people are serious psychotics. They will eat you and spit you out before you even get the chance to make whatever difference you're aiming for here." She tells me seriously, and I frown at her.

"Why are people so quick to write these damaged souls off? They didn't get a choice in life. It was taken from them and twisted into something dangerous." I tell her, explaining my reasoning further, but she acts as if I hadn't spoke to her at all.

I don't like her at all, Harleen.

"Anyway, this is your office. Dr. Jonathan Smith is across the hall and will bring you your first patient files when he's ready. Good luck." She says as she hands me a key, then she walks off before I have the chance to say anything.

I look down at my hand to see that the key is gold with a small, tattered red ribbon on it. I smile at the key, finding myself liking the tattered ribbon in its sort of damaged state. It kind of reminds me of myself, making me love it even more.