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Black and white. She had already gotten used to it. From the rags she is dressed in, to the small, suffocating cell she had been carelessly thrown into. By putting her in there, Jim Gordon had no idea what he had set into motion.
She is determined she can break out of that old asylum.
One day.
It all went from having some maniacal, blood thristy fun, to chains and a padded room. How did she become so lucky? No more getting what she wanted, this was it.
She has no shame for what she had done, she is fully aware that what she did was terrible, yet she paid no mind to it. Now, she was a little too excited that night, just waiting for something big to happen, and that, it did.
In the eyes of others, she is feared, from what they would have thought was a sweet innocent 17 year old girl, turned out to be a crazed, power driven killer. She longs to do something like it again.
The rush of adrenaline flowing through her veins; a sense of power.
Why wouldn't they be afriad? The things she had done, the things she said. It all adds up. What she got put in this looneybin for, was just the cherry on the top of her criminal record.
Ah, Arkham Asylum. Gotta love this place. The worn out beds, the lack of freedom, the screaming neighbors. What else could a girl ask for?
"Alright inmate, let's go." A guard said, unlocking her door.
He was new.
She looked up to the tall man, sitting cross-legged in the corner, she had slightly freaked the man out, but he stayed strong, fought against it. His co-workers had warned him about her, but he wanted to see for himself.
Her glare was strong as he walked closer to her, small growling sounds erupting from her plump, chapped lips.
He grabbed her by the arms, handcuffing her almost immediately. He stood her up from her sitting position, she stayed completely still. Impatiently, the guard nudged her forward.
"Walk." His stern voice demanded,
She said nothing, but started walking without a word. This is the first time in the year she had been in the asylum that she was allowed to associate with the other inmates. She had been locked away in the deepest wing of Arkham, for she is the most dangerous person in Gotham City. She was brought to a normal cell for good behavior.
The guard guided her through the twists and turns of the hallways, until they reached a big, rusted metal door. He uncuffed her, and quickly pushed her in the recreation room without hesitation, shutting the door right after doing so.
She ignored his ignorance and walked over to an empty table closest to her, sitting down in the old wooden chair. She could hear the other inmates talking about her. She could feel it. They spoke of her crimes, and why she's been locked away. Everyone knew.
She wondered how safe people feel without her around, after she had been brought here. The thought of people not having to worry about her bothered her. She was feigning for the fear the civilians granted her, the power that puts her in over drive. She commited the biggest crime in Gotham, with no second thought.
A small 18 year old. Huh, you learn something everyday. The chaos will be in her control once again someday. She just knew it. The other lunatics, all moping, crying or screaming don't see the picture like she does.
She has a theory that this city needs a dictator, an upperhand in command.
'And to think, one day that person will be me' she thought to herself. 'Gotham will tremble at the sound of my name rolling off some person's pathetic tongue.'
She looked around the crowded room, inmates in their own little worlds. Mostly men. She had noticed that they were either talking to their mates or themselves.
But one. A boy her age. He turned his head over hus shoulder, examining her. But she didn't even notice. He had vibrant red hair, and dark blue-green eyes.
He stared at her in awe. She was the frist girl he had ever really stopped and actually took a look at. He was intrigued.
To Kill A Mockingbird
She picked up the worn out book, and began attempting to entertain herself. Something to do. gliding through it, she easily got annoyed, she groaned with anger as she threw the book, accidently hitting a large, buff man in the back of his fat, bald head.
She laughed loudly as he stood up, and picked up the book. She had laughed even harder as he walked her way.
'The sad man walks like a wanna be rapper.' She thought to herself.
His eyes widened as he came closer, a slight realization of who exactly she was. He then reached to her destination.
"What a throw!" She sang, "Hey, you're tall geez! What's you're name?"
"Frank." He said, handing her back the book.
His voice was deep and gruff, manly. He was strongly built, and had a large scar up his cheek.
"Hmm. Frank..." She tapped her chin with her index finger. "Nah, I don't like it. How 'bout Tiny? Yeah. I'll call you Tiny."
He grunted in response, it wasn't an ideal nickname for a man his size and strength, but nonetheless, she was the most fear person in Gotham, he didn't want to upset her, for he had no clue what she would do to him.
"Hey, why don't you stick around with me? I don't think I can stand a place like this without a friend. Name's Madison." She stuck her hand out for him to shake,
"Of course." He nodded, shaking her small, soft hand.
'This could be good.'
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WELL THEN!
Short chapter, but I thought maybe this would be a good start off! 😊
