Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chloe
“Chlo-Bear.”
His whisper in my ear sent a fearful shudder down my spine. I could feel his lips on my skin, barely caressing it but enough to be far more intimate than a father should be with his child.
“Are you awake, sweetheart?” He asked as his fingers lightly grazed my collarbone.
I nodded faintly as I continued to stare forward at the wall in front of me. My body faced away from him, so I luckily couldn’t make out the sick expression on his face as he looked at me.
I was sure it was full of desire.
For his only child.
How sweet.
His hand gradually moved from my collarbone to my arm before trailing down it slowly. “It’s after midnight.”
My eyes watered as a nauseating feeling washed over me. I stuttered out the next few words, “M- my birthday.”
He chuckled bitterly, “That’s right, sweet girl. You’re growing up so fast.” He continued his movement across my stomach, carefully lifting the bottom of my camisole up. “Sixteen years old, you’re practically a woman.”
Mentally, I’d grown up a long time ago. With nightly visits to my room from father beloved, I had to.
His hand grazed the bottom of my breast and I could feel his chest shudder behind me. “You’re such a good girl.”
Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.
Don’t fight. It’ll be worse next time. Just let him have his way with you and you can go to class tomorrow and act like a normal kid.
That was it. Think of it like it was a movie. This isn’t actually happening. He’s just an actor. So am I.
It’s fake. I had to believe it’s fake.
Because why else would a father do this to his daughter?
The wind from the storm outside shutters the glass on my bedroom window, waking me from my mid-day nap. The thunder could be heard far away earlier today, but I could’ve sworn it was going to miss this area.
As usual, the weather-man is incorrect.
My dad swore up and down when I was a kid that those people knew what they were talking about. Him and my mom were basically like doomsday preppers before he got into politics… before he became something else entirely.
And if a winter storm was coming, he’d always tell us to buckle up because we would be inside the rest of the blizzard with no heat and zero toilet paper.
I always wonder what happened to that man.
The one who loved my mother with every ounce of his being. The one that would’ve chased after her, instead of some fictitious political career.
Instead, Mom is off living her best life. Without me. Without him.
And maybe she is better for it.
She might’ve been dead too by now if she had stayed.
“Chloe, it’s time for your pills, honey.”
Mrs. Regina rattles two blue pills in a plastic cup.
A smile lifts at my lips. “Did I miss lunch again?”
She saunters over to my bedside cheerfully as she shakes her head, “It’s quite alright. I can go and fetch your meal as soon as we’re finished up here.”
I nod my head as I gently take the cup from her hand, lifting it so that the pills fall directly into my mouth. Luckily, I already have a plastic cup of water on my nightstand to choke them down.
They taste like straight chemical byproducts.
Which, I guess they are. But still, disgusting.
“Tongue.” She says casually.
I stick my tongue straight out into the air and then lift it up, moving it side to side to show her that no medicine remains.
She smiles brightly and walks over to my door.
“Would you like to have lunch in here or in the sitting room with everyone else?”
A small yawn leaves my mouth as I stretch.
That is the question at hand. Stay in my room by myself and watch the rain slip down the window, or go and sit in a quiet room full of other people.
I glance up to her with a small smile. “I’ll join the group.”
She nods, “Alright. As soon as it’s ready, I’ll bring your meal over to you.”
With that, she slips from the room leaving me to my thoughts.
I count in my head, trying to remember how many days I have been in here so far.
For the first week, I remained strapped to this very bed in the same room, staring at the ceiling until time stopped meaning anything.
The doctors and nurses seemed afraid that I would hurt myself or someone else, but I already did that in order to end up here myself.
Isn’t that what we are all here for? Too crazy for the outside, so they coop all of us crazies in one big house together.
Doesn’t seem like the best idea. We could all rebel and take over like that movie V for Vendetta. That is my favorite movie, or at least one of them. Anything that involves standing up to the hierarchy has my ears perked at the mention of it.
Here though, you are sedated and kept in a padded room for the rest of your days. That’s scarier since some of the male nurses, and even the female nurses like to sneak into the rooms to play with the patients while they are unable to give consent.
One girl, Teresa, she fought this other chick on day one and ended up in solitary for six days.
One minor fight was all it took for her to be fully separated from every other patient for an unpredictable amount of time.
I didn’t even have to ask her what happened.
I seen the look in her eyes when they dragged her back into the common room.
Her legs lazily oozed behind her as they walked through the doorway, placing her into a seat just in the corner of the room.
She sat there, as still as can be, with the gaze of someone who had their strength ripped away.
I knew it all too well.
Luckily, I don’t have to know it in here though.
This is my escape from that God awful place.
Dad won’t be able to touch me in here.
Sure, I am likely confined to one building for the rest of my life. But at least here, if I act right, I’m safe. The nurses seem to all like me too.
Outweigh the negatives with the positives.
That’s what Dr. Fernandez says to do.
So I’m planning to continue to do that while remaining on my best behavior. I’d rather not end up like Teresa.
Not after being like her almost my entire childhood.
With quiet steps, I make my way into the hall.
I keep my eyes trained on my feet with each step I take, so that I don’t trip myself. I am one hundred percent a klutz. But I guess me over watching my feet defeats the point of trying to avoid an accident as I collide into another chest.
“Oh, Chloe. I was just coming to tell you that your meal is finished up.” Mrs. Regina throws her head forward ushering me to follow her. “Come on, hun. You can follow me down there.”
I do as I am told and continue to let her lead even though I am already headed in that direction.
She means well, but it is as if she is trying to correct me on my path like I was headed somewhere other than the place I told her I was going.
It’s like being compared to a child running rampant in Walmart.
The type that hides in the clothes racks, plays hide and seek behind the toilet paper and gets caught by the employees.
We walk over to one of the center tables in the auditorium.
The tables are all metal, same as the chairs. They also match the interior of the establishment.
Everything was either white or silver.
I still feel the need to give the director or whoever runs this place a talking to about color.
This is definitely one way to drive someone even crazier than they already are. To put them in a space that feels endless. All one solid color. I mean, at least we have windows but still.
I sit down in the chair she points to, automatically grabbing one of the plastic forks. We aren’t allowed to have silver cutlery. It’s a smart move, but I still feel as though someone can figure out something dangerous to do with the plastic as well.
Today’s menu consists of mac and cheese and broccoli, which I in no way object to. That type of meal is absolutely divine even in a place like this.
I turn to thank Mrs. Regina, but she already saunters off to speak to another patient.
I focus on the meal, shoveling down a few heavy bites, followed by me chasing them with the sweetness of the small apple juice box they gave me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a wheelchair being rolled into the room. Unlike all of the other patients, or most of them, I am pretty sound in my mind.
That means I’m not overly dosed up with drugs and can pay attention to my surroundings.
I internally drool and externally bite my lip to keep myself from moaning out.
Okay, my reaction isn’t that dramatic, but I know a blush definitely rises to my cheeks at how handsome this patient is.
This is my first time ever seeing him here. I’ve only been here myself a few weeks, but I was pretty aware of everyone who comes in and out of the building.
His skin is pale and his blonde hair is lacking in color, which is similar to the entirety of this room. He fits right in.
My eyes then drift up to the male nurse who is the one wheeling the other male into the room.
He’s now headed in my direction.
The nurse has dark brown, almost black hair. He is clean shaven and dressed in scrubs. The color of the outfit is a given. It’s a running theme in this place.
As if they are trying their hardest to disguise the building as heaven and its employees like angels, when in reality this place was built for imprisoning demons.
I don’t believe we’re all demons in here. We’re not all evil.
We just got the shit end of the stick.
Both men have fit physiques. Not overly buff, but I know both of them could lift me over their shoulders and carry me out of a house fire if it happened.
Not that I am imagining that. I am.
The attractive nurse stops the chair right at the base of the table that I share with no one else.
Well, no one besides the man that he pushes over to me.
The blonde still seems slightly loopy from whatever they gave him before he was brought here. He hasn’t yet looked up from his lap.
But the nurse’s eyes catch mine as I bring them up from the male patient. His face doesn’t move a muscle as his eyes watch me carefully.
His eye color is a deep shade of green, similar to the tree leaves that fall past my window every day. His many tattoos cover the skin on his arms. He is about as pale as the patient in front of me. But unlike the one in the wheelchair, he looks well-rested.
Must be nice waking in your own bed with no one to be fearful of.
He continues to stare at me until Mrs. Regina places a gentle hand on his tone shoulder. “I was just coming to introduce you two.”
The man’s eyes leave mine to look over to her. His lips then lift into a smirk, “Were you?”
She nods her head, confirming her sentence from before. She then glances over to me, “I wanted to tell you before anyone else did..”
My eyes narrow but I hold the slightly cheerful look on my face. “What do you mean?”
She glances between us nervously before speaking, “This is Carlo. He’ll be the new nurse monitoring your conditions for Dr. Dallas.”
The smile I had on my face fades away, leaving my lips pursed in confusion.
Carlo turns his head back towards me, “Ah, so this is the famous Chloe I’ve heard so much about.”
My eye twitches at that comment.
Famous indeed.
And not just for being a politician’s daughter. Not anymore.
The blonde headed patient raises his head and as he does, we lock eyes.
His sky-blue orbs don’t budge even as Mrs. Regina clears her throat.
My brows furrow in confusion as his attention stays on me. You’d think I ran over his favorite dog with how he was staring me down.
I don’t even have a driver’s license to do that.
His throat clears and he mutters something.
I glance up slightly to look at Carlo, whose jaw is tight. Almost as if he is frustrated.
My gaze returns to the guy in the chair. “What did you say?”
His lip trembles for a moment before he answers, “What’s your last name?”
His voice comes out rough, like he hasn’t used it in days.
My eyes move up to Mrs. Regina who gives me a small nod.
She only ever wants me to make friends with the other patients so I don’t feel so alone.
I at least do her that kindness before questioning as to why I am being moved under a different psychologist.
I exhale a breath, “Armani.”
I wonder if they will let me change my last name now that he is dead.
Will I be that lucky?
Or is this name meant to serve as a reminder of him forever?
A reminder of the evil I am made from.
Who I am made from.
Maybe that is just it. I am evil too.
Not in the same way as him. That would be disgusting.
But since I’m his blood kin, maybe his darkness seeps into me and I was just destined to end up psycho anyway.
Sickening to think about considering he did seep into me quite a few times.
Forcibly.
Deliberately.
I am an adult now though. I can choose to be better.
It can end with him.
“You’re real?” the blonde man asks.
I press my lips into a thin line.
Maybe he’s schizophrenic. Better to convince him that I’m real now, before he decides I’m a monster his mind invented and reacts accordingly.
“I’m real.”