My name is Harleen Quinzel.
I am 26 years old.
I was born in Gotham city.
I am a psychologist.
I love my job.
I took a deep breath. In. I noted the street I now walked down as I headed home. Out. Work was difficult today. In through my nose - nice and slow. I listened to the bustling city around me - the car horns, the rain hitting the pavement… I tightened my grip on my umbrella. Out through barely parted lips.
I finally landed my dream job as a psychiatric therapist in the mental ward of Gotham Asylum; but my new management was less than pleased, and my coworkers weren’t too thrilled with my recent transfer either. I felt unwanted and helpless. This was definitely not the start I had pictured on the first day of Psychology 101 when I began a grueling college major with the hopes of someday working at the Asylum. In fact, this is the complete opposite of what I had hoped for; and after a terrible first couple weeks, I was beginning to doubt my life choices.
I was given the less than desirable clients with their repetitive mental issues and consistent self pity while I watched my coworkers, some less qualified than I, handle extreme and rare cases of mental illness, even some that I have never before seen. It was the same thing every day: report for work, check out a stack of assigned files from the inventory and review them, sit down with each client for their allotted time slot, and then use basic textbook knowledge to prescribe basic textbook treatments for basic textbook problems - nothing worth my time.
I just wanted all of my previous headaches and student loans to count for something. I had planned my whole life around this career. What would it take to show my higher ups that I meant something to this facility?
In. I was almost home. Out. The rain fell heavier now, but I was spared by the big black thing that I held positioned above my head. In. A blinding flash followed by a clap of thunder. I shivered as a smile cracked my stress induced expression. The lightning was always my favorite. Out. My heart rate slowed. I neared the bottom steps to my building. In. Police sirens sounded in the distance, followed by the sound of tires squealing on pavement. Just another evening in Gotham, I suppose. There will probably be something headlining the news later about Batman rushing to the scene and saving the day. Out. The sirens grew closer as I dug for the stupid key in my purse. I was getting water through my jacket and down my back.
I huffed frustratedly. In. You got this. Practice your breath. Out. One would think that I could at least avoid my own anxiety attacks since I spend my whole day teaching all of those whack-jobs how to do it themselves. I guess not. The thought made me chuckle humorlessly as I searched through my bag.
In. The sirens were nearing me now. I glanced up, nervous, as I tried to determine where they were coming from. The last thing I needed right now was to get unwillingly involved with whatever was nearing me from just around the corner. I realized that I had ceased fumbling around for my key and immediately broke my attention away from the street to continue my search. Where was it?! I could’ve sworn I-... left it on my desk. Great. Just great! Now, I have to walk all the way back in the pouring rain! Could this day get any worse?
I spun around and began marching back the way I had come, cursing under my breath. I hadn’t gone more than 20 feet before a black blur came skidding dangerously around the corner, nearly scraping the curb as it came to a screeching halt. The police sirens weren’t too far behind - a block or two maybe? Without warning, the driver, young with sandy brown hair and dark eyes, stuck a handgun out the window and fired several shots into the surrounding crowd.
The entire block seemed to hold its breath before exploding to life as a balding, middle-aged man collapsed to the ground, clutching at his gut, and several others dropped dead. People sprinted in every direction, screaming bloody murder. Women yanked their children to them and businessmen escaped into the safety of nearby stores. I just stood there, frozen in horror, and watched the scene unfold before me.
