In the Mind of Madness

The next day was Saturday, allowing Kenna to wake up at around noon feeling quite refreshed. Sleeping in always did her good. The first thing she did was roll over and start to push herself up, but she gasped in pain and fell onto her side awkwardly. Pain radiated from her wrist, and when she looked down at it Kenna noticed it had become a much darker purple than it was before.

“Bastard’s stronger than he looks.” she muttered, then used her good hand to get out of bed.

Kenna indulged in a long, hot shower and took her time combing the tangles out of her gently wavy hair. She studied her reflection grimly. Her hair looked thin, there were bags under her eyes that were fading from her previous late night, and her small mouth was twisted into a grimace. Eight years of college and an additional year of training and…Kenna still felt like she hadn’t done much with her life. It was depressing, and she felt helpless to do anything about it.

A knock at her door startled her, and Kenna hurried into a robe to answer it. Peering through the peephole in her door she saw a woman with spiky red hair holding a dish of some kind. Bemused, Kenna opened the door.

“Hi.” said Kenna, smiling at the woman.

“Hi, there. I just moved into 6B. I thought I’d come and say hello to all my neighbors, which is just you.”

“Oh, wow. I‘ve been alone up here forever. I’m Kenna Archer.”

They shook hands, and the woman with the spiky red hair beamed at Kenna. “I’m Darla Aberle. Just moved here from my hometown in Georgia.”

“Cool, come on in. Let me change really quick and we can talk.”

“Thanks. Sorry if I interrupted you.”

“No, I’ll just be a minute. Make yourself at home, Darla.”

Darla set the dish on the kitchen table and sat down on the couch, and Kenna went back to her room to change into jeans and a blue t-shirt. When she came back out she was putting her hair up in a ponytail, and smiled at Darla.

“So Georgia? I can hear it in your voice.”

The woman on her couch blushed a little. “Guilty. I’ve been trying to get rid of the stupid twang since I was sixteen, but it just won’t go away.”

“I like it. Very unique.” Kenna sat an appropriate distance away from her on the couch.

“Thanks. The only real upside of Georgia is the cooking, so I brought a sweet potato pie.”

Kenna licked her lips. Food! She was a horrible cook herself, but tried not to betray just how excited the still-steaming dish on her table made her. “Sounds great. That’s very nice of you.”

“It was no trouble. So, how long have you lived here?”

“Just a year. I was training to work at Arkham Asylum until about a month ago, and now I’m working there. What do you do?”

Darla was sweet and supplied a lot of conversation so it didn‘t get weird, and Kenna was more than glad to have some company. She didn’t know anybody outside of the asylum, unless you counted the people on the bus she took to work. And Darla was funny, as well as making an amazing sweet potato pie.

It was great to be able to do something that didn’t pertain to The Joker at all.