Building up or breaking down of Harleen Quinzel | By : Risen86 Category: DC Verse Comics > Suicide Squad Views: 6735 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Suicide Squad, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
It was hard to find a reference point for myself, growing up in a home with parents that made no attempt at giving me direction. There were never any congratulations for things I did right and, unless I broke one of my dad’s beer bottles or got into my mother’s powder, I got no reprimand either. My brother Quincy was my anchor; my earliest memories were of him making me breakfast or giving me baths. He would walk me to daycare then bring me home. We would tell each other stories before going to bed and I would always make him laugh. He would call me his harlequin like the man on TV that was really funny. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was good, my brother made sure of it.
He couldn’t have been older than 6 when he went missing. There was no explanation and no drama from my parents; when I mentioned his name I was ignored. I must have cried every single day for months after his disappearance; until I realized I needed to figure things out on my own. I did figure it out; I had seen Quincyquin do it all the time. I figured out how to do the laundry, to have my baths, how to use the washroom. The main struggle was food, usually I was lucky and there was fast food lying around but sometimes I had to get creative. I would sneak down to the corner store just across the street and leave a little heavier and a lot less hungry. On the rare occasion I got caught, I would leave with a few bruises as well but that was a small price to pay.
Once father disappeared, when I was 9, life became a bit crazier. Different men milled in and out of the house, each one shadier than the last. Even then I knew what was happening; they were ‘exchanging favors’ with mother. Mother would do anything for that white powder she kept in her closet; some even made offers for me but that was a bit much for her. That didn’t stop them from talking to me, or staring at me or offering to help me bath. I knew I had to be smart and I knew I had to be careful. Life was frightening, hectic, unpredictable and meaningless… until I met Lila.
Lila was a new student in my school; I thought she was beautiful with her dark brown skin, her straight black hair and her chocolate eyes. In no time Lila and I became inseparable, we sat together in class, we ate together at lunch and she introduced me to the gymnastics club at school. Everything seemed to fall in place around her, my home life didn’t matter anymore; all that mattered was she and I. I started working illegally when I was 11 so I could take gymnastics classes with her. These were the best years for me and I prayed everyday that nothing would change.
In high school, we met Matt and for a while he was all Lila would talk about. She told me she was in love and when Matt asked her out she slowly started pulling away from me. She stopped going to the gymnastics class, stopped hanging out with me at lunch and didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with me. So, on the night of my 15th birthday, I decided to make an unannounced stop at her house. The lights in her house were off so I climbed up through her open window. It didn’t take long for me to realize, from the lip smacking and the rustling clothes, that there was someone else in the room with her. Not wanting to disturb them, and not wanting to go home yet, I huddled in the corner of the room and decided to wait them out. When the boy left I’d let her know I was here. I watched in silence as things got really heated and clothes started coming off. I fascinated over Lila, over the whole situation and started feeling a fire burning in the pit of my belly. In a trance, I tried to get closer but I must have tripped… or made a noise because they both flew out of each other’s arms and off the bed. In a haze I saw Matt running towards me and there was screaming in the distance then it was as if the world blacked out.
When I came to Matt was on the floor gripping his head; it was gushing thick red blood. Lila was crying, begging me to leave. “Get out you freak! … get the fuck out!”
“He attacked me!” I whispered, “… you saw! He attacked me!” I left crying and she never spoke to me again. I tried calling her, talking to her at school and even meeting her at her house but she didn’t want anything to do with me. I felt lost and alone.
It was only a few months later when I met Dylan Wilcox, a psychology professor at NYU, that I felt alive again. I fell in love with Dylan and lost my virginity to him. Our relationship lasted until I received my doctorate and I found out he was cheating on me with an 16-year-old. I realized I needed to get away, not just from Dylan but also from the standard psychiatric career options available to me in Brooklyn. I needed a challenge; I thought I wanted to make a difference and I was smart enough to get a job just about anywhere. So, I applied to an opening at The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. As soon as I signed my contract, I barely managed to pack my bags; I ditched my phone and took off like a bat out of hell and right into the open arms of my future.
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