Saving Chloe

As I sat in this prison like cell, I began writing. To me, it was like painting a talent-less picture. It was beautiful, with its toxic imperfections. But that was me. Toxic. Imperfect. Never beautiful. Staring at these blank walls, I found myself wondering what was going on back at home. Vie been locked up in this joint for about 3 months. Looking back, I hardly could remember what I was in here for. A brief glance at my arms offered more theories than was ever necessary. The jagged wounds criss-crossing each other like a spiders web.1

I closed my eyes to fight away the heavy tears and to wish it all away. Me. My life. My mistakes. Everything. I just wanted to go home. I hated being here. It was so eerie here. So cold, so isolated. I glanced down at my notebook and see words. Unknown phrases of a chapter of another story. According to my therapist, these phrases and chapters were my way of describing my life. As if. What does he know?2

I heard heavy footsteps coming towards my room. Quickly, I threw the notebook under my bed. It was Patty. She was one of the heavier nurses and after three months of solitary confinement, I've come to know every nurse and doctor by their footsteps. She was coming to seek me out. She was always looking out for me acting all motherly with me. I figured that was okay, I mean, she couldn’t have any kids. And frankly, I didn’t have a mother. 3

She was why I was in here. My mother, I mean. Her and I used to be best friends. Really close. Until she left. She did come back and all, but it wasn’t the same. It was the side of her that I was afraid of, drunk and abusive. I could handle her hitting me, though. The only time it bothered me was when she hit Holly. Holly was too pure and innocent and couldn't keep a secret to save her life. She was an easy bruiser. Shed go to school with swollen eyes and whisper to everyone what happened. I often found myself hating her for it.4

Holly and my mom had gone for a drive one night. Before they left, I could hear them arguing about me. It was always about me. I hated it. It was always my fault and I always did everything wrong. After hearing my mother saying how much she hated me, I ran up to my room, crying. My pillow collected all my tears and comforted me to sleep. When I woke up, my head hurt. I had a feeling that something was not right. I looked out my window. In the distant field, a bolt of lightning struck a tree and left it to fend for itself. The rain was coming down in sheets. I loved the rain; it was the only beauty in this world. Walking downstairs, my legs became so heavy with dread I found it nearly impossible to walk. The lights were out, but I could make out the outline of everything. I could hear a TV blasting from mom and dads room. 5

"Dad?" I called out, unsure of everything. I opened the door and found him sitting on the bed, clutching the phone, staring at the TV and crying. "Dad? What’s wrong?"6

"That was your mother on the phone, Chloe. She said, she said that she was sorry." I didn't understand. My mother, who had spent the last three years blaming me for everything and beating me, was sorry? I was confused until I turned to the TV.7

"No." I said. "No, that's not her." 8

I desperately tried to convince myself that the blue Buick spinning out of control, flipping constantly, wasnt her.
Even at the hospital when they wheeled her in on the stretcher, I wouldn't believe it. 9

She wouldn't make it. Neither of them would. Holly was pronounced DOA, while my mother’s existence was extended twelve minutes. Even as she knew she was dying, she couldn't bare to say that she loved me. She couldn't bear to say that she was sorry. The last thing I ever heard my mother say to me was "why did you do this to me?"10

No matter what anyone told me, I knew that it was intentional. My mother had wanted to die, and she had token Holly with her. And it was my entire fault.11

It shouldn't have been Holly. She was pure and beautiful and I hated her for that. For being mom's favourite. For replacing me. I hated her because everyone loved her and chose her over me and I was glad that she was dead. Even though I told everyone that, I knew that deep down inside of me, I was crying out for her. Even though I envied and hated her, she was always there for me and she accepted me. I needed her, but I convinced myself that I was happy that they were gone.12

Hot tears stung my eyes. I hated it most when I found myself thinking about my mother, it always brought tears to my eyes. Generally I don't have a problem with my emotions, but in a joint like this, it was the last thing I wanted to talk about. 13

There was a soft knock on my door. I knew that was going to happen. I wiped quickly at my eyes with the back of my hand. They were like ice, as they touched my face. Cold like my mother, I found myself thinking.
"Chloe, sweetie...Its Patty. Can I come in?"
That was one thing I didn't understand. Everyone knocked to respect our privacy, but they always entered without our consent. As expected, Patty barged in, playing with the ruby studded promise ring that sat on her long dark fingers.
"How you doing, baby?"
I looked out my caged window in reply. "Come on, Chloe Baby,"
I looked at her. Her big green eyes were soft and welcoming, slowly filling with tears. The tears brought out the tiny flecks of blue and yellow paint that surrounded her pupils. She had the most beautiful eyes ever. But I never could tell her.
"How are you, Chloe?"
"Well, lets see. I'm almost fifteen, I'm locked in a loony bin and my family is dead. How do you think I feel?" The words came out more harshly then intended.
"And.?" She urged me on.
"And I'm sick of being dressed in white paper. Every one here is trying to convince me that I'm not insane, but, if I'm not, then why cant I go home?"14

I answered my own question as soon as the words tumbled out of my mouth. Cause you have no one to go home to.
I soon became engulfed in my own numbness.15

"Sweetie, you are not insane. In fact, you’re the opposite. You, like everyone else, just need some help moving on and dealing with your emotions."
"What emotions?" I asked, tears running down my face. As far as emotions were concerned, we haven't even scratched the tip of the iceberg.
"The emotions that you’re afraid to show. Like sadness, anger, confusion, loneliness...Those are all emotions that we all deal with, it’s perfectly normal."
"Look, I don't need any help. My emotions are fine, I'm ok. Imp a survivor. Imp used to being alone."
"Sweetie, you’re not alone-"
"Save it for someone else, I don't want to talk about it."
"You don't want to talk about what?"
"My moth- anything. I'm ok Patty. Please leave."
I turned my head so I could continue looking out my window. I closed my eyes hard. Go Away! Don't Go! I Need You! Go Now! Leave!
So many different thoughts ran through my head. I tried to shake them clear. In the background I could hear Patty mumbling something about being there. 16

An eternity later, I turned around. The navy sky painted my white walls light blue. I hugged myself through my paper-thin uniform. Crisp white t-shirt with my own white long sleeve shirt underneath. Matching pants that were detestably comfortable. I crossed over to my twin size bed and crawled beneath the blue and white comforters. As a rule, we were not allowed to wear sweaters, and when I say we, I mean me and two other girls that were labelled as "Clients with self-mutilation issues." To the other "guests" we were just, 'cutters'.17

I laid my head down on the pillow and turned to my side. In no time at all, I could feel hot, salty tears slip sliding down my pale cheeks. I closed my eyes. I could feel sleep calling my name. I tossed in turned against it, but in the end I just gave in.18

I could hear laughing. Screams of joy and excitement. My name being called in the distance. "Chloe?" I could see it clearly now. I was home, in my room, and Holly was at the door. “Hey Holly whets going on?” I could her myself say without looking up.
"Its been a long time since the accident, Chloe. Its time to move on. It wasnt your fault. Chloe, I know what you have been doing to yourself, and its not right. Thats not good for you. Mom and I, we love you very very much, and we want the best for you."
I looked up and nearly screamed. Holly stood before me, covered in blood, all cut up.
"No." I said. "No. This isnt right, what happened to you? Why are you-
"The accident. I wsa killed instantly. But now i can watch over you, like i wish i could have when i was alive. We miss you, and we love you, and we dont want you to be hurt anymore."
"No!" i screamed.
"Chloe, whats wrong?"
I opened my eyes, i was surrounded by the entire staff, with worried looks on their faces. Patty's hand was intertwined with my own.
"I..." i started, "I...I saw my......Holly." And with the final word, my head that was drenched in sweat fell into Patty's lap.19

I slipped off my white slippers and brought my knees up so they were resting on the seat of the brown leather chair, buried beneath my crossed arms. I looked around your office. But I refuse to look at you. So many, almost too many, times i had been brought into this office. So many times i just sat here for hours on end, not ever saying anything. I thought i had won, when the weeks fluttered by without being back here. Now, just because i had a dream, i get dragged into your office. I saw my sister and automatically im "emotionally confused and abandoned, damaged, psychologically unstable and stubborn, refuses to seek the attention she needs to make a full recovery."
I can hear you speak, i see your lips move but i dont know what your saying.
"Chloe!" you shreik. The sharpness in your voice causes me to crash land into my pitiful reality.
"While your in my office i like, no, i /expect/ your full, undivided attention. Now, as i have been saying for the past 15 minutes, what happened in the relapse of yours?"
That does it.20

"Relapse? Relapse? If you honestly want to know, there was no relapse, it was a dream. It was just a bad dream. Thats all, end of story, nothing more to it. And frankly, i am sick and tired of having people prod at me and treat me like a freak because i reacted to seeing my dead sister in a dream. I dont want to talk about it anymore, its over, my lips are sealed. Can you unlock the door?"
I can see your beady eyes sprint from corner to corner, inhaling every sight in your office before falling on me.
"The door is not locked, Chloe."
"The doors always locked." i replied, cynically. I could hear the faint buzzing and the polished wood sprung open. "Im here for you Chloe, whenever you need me. And im here because i care, and i want to help you. Save you."
"I dont need your help, and im too far gone to be saved."

I walked down the hallway, tears spilling over my white cheeks. Damn it. I hate being emotional. Why did i need so much help, why couldnt i just be normal? I felt so lost...so helpless. Alone in a place where people were always with me. I was definetly cracking up. Deep down i knew that i felt so alone because of all the people here, no one really knew me, and no one really care. To them, i was just another patient. I could even tell that i was jsut another person to my therapist, i could see it in your eyes as you drained your ceramic mug of warm coffee, the bitter after-taste having no effect on you. Trying to solve my problems while thinking, would you like another cup, dear? Of course this question was never asked because of the lack of people to ask it to. 21

Soon, i was overwhelmed and exhausted. I felt drained and i didnt want to go back to my room. Where was my room? I didnt care. I slumped up against the wall and started to think. Are the hallways always this empty?22

I closed my eyes. I was shocked at the burst of colour that blasted through the darkness. Swinging at the park. Leaning over the rails of the boat. My mom leaving, and myself finding comfort in my dads arms. I could remember him, as if it was yesterday. He was wearing a brown leather jacket with a grey shirt under it, blue faded jeans and black boots. I could even smell him, the scent was so strong, as if he were standing in front of me. Peppermint, and coffe with a tint of smoke from his evening ciggarette. The smell was getting stronger, and i lifted my head, half hoping he would be there, smiling and ready to take me home.
I pushed that out of my head before i could get to worked up over it. He wasnt here. He didnt even know i was here. Wait-did he?
I stood up and walked back to the thick wooden doors. I almost knocked, but was overcome with second thoughts and i stalled. Finally, i raised my hand to the knob and pulled myself in.
"Chloe, can i help you?" you ask, almost curious. I bet your still thinking about your coffee.
"Dad...my dad.." i trailed off, trying to form a sentence.
"Yes, Chloe, what about your dad?"
"Does he..um...he, he knows im here, right? He's gonna come take me home when im done, right?" I asked, casually. I didnt want to exert to much hope.
"Chloe, what is bothering you?"
"Does he?" i asked, pressing the question that you dont want to answer.
"Chloe" you say, looking at your watch. "Im afraid that at this moment i cant answer your question, i have a few loose ends to tie up. Come see me tomorrow and we can talk about this, is that alright?"
"Yea, whatever...so, i'll see you tomorrow, right?"
"Sure thing kiddo" you say with a fake smile and your Colgate white teeth, draining your coffee once again.
In the TV room, i sat down on the couch not paying attention to Susie get the question wrong on Jeopardy. I began thinking again. Where was Dad, why didnt he want to see me? Did he want to see me? I got up and walked to my room. Why were the hallways so empty?
I sat down on my bed and closed my eyes. Slowly, i drifted off to sleep.

I could see myself, in a bathroom, only, it wasnt me. My hair was ratty, and my eyes were red and puffy. My cheeks were pale but spotted with red. I could see bottles of my moms Crown and Smirnoff and some other bottles mixed with pills. I could see myself sway back and forth, taking more pills. Why was i doing that? Why wasnt it good enough? I could see 'me' reaching up for the counter and pulling myself up. I could hear my self scream and i gasped in pain as i punched the mirror. Broken glass splattered with my blood fell into the sink. Still not good enough. What was i doing? I pulled out the drawer and turned it upside down, searching frantically for something. That something turned out to be a small box of spare razors. No. My arm was shaking as i drew it across, again and again. Deeper. Deeper. I was shaking and crying and screaming. But no one could hear me. What was happening? I could see the door open just a fall back, cracking my head off of the bath tub. Some one came in and carried me away.
I sat up straight. I was soaked in sweat and tears and my head and arms were throbbing. Is that what happened? Is that why?
"PATTY!!!" i screamed. "Patty!!" i cried out, breaking down in sobs. "Patty..?!" I could see you run in, scared as hell.
"Why am i here? Why? Tell me, please. I know you know, please Patty...please." i begged. I see you run to the door, call for some more doctors and then you hurry back to me.
"please, save me Patty...please..i need you.." i sob out.
The other doctors appear at the door, look at me and appear to be stunned.
"We need to get her out of here." you say to them. They all hustle over to me, whispering comforts and walk me steadily out the door, up the hallway.
"Chloe," you say, stroking the side of my face. "Chloe, baby, you gotta tell us what happened, so we can help you. Ok?"
"I..had...it..it was a dream. I saw myself...and..and i was..dr.drinking, and there was p..p..pills..and blood was everywhere...what happened Patty, what was it..?"
Out of the group of doctors that stared at me, one of the males spoke up.
"Chloe, i was a friend of your dads.-
"Where is he? Daddy? im sorry daddy-
"Chloe, a police officer came to my house not to long after your mothers accident. He was a friend of mine and your dads. He came to tell me that your dad had...passed away. He had just come from your house. Jack, Jack couldnt take it anymore. I knew that i had to get to you as soon as possible...to make sure you were okay. I tried to get out here as soon as possible...but...by the time i got to your house...-"
He broke off, his voice was trembling.
I looked up and saw tears in his eyes. I could feel all tingly. Was he the one that i saw?
He cleared his throat and began again.
"By the time i got to your house, i was afraid that i was too late. I was so scared. I looked everywhere, and finally i found you in the bathroom. You werent moving. You were covered in blood, and i found all these empty pill bottles. I was so scared, i didnt know what else to do. So...so i brought you here."
"Where...wheres my dad? Why didnt he bring me here?"
"Chloe, your dad died. Thars why i came to check on you, that-"
"No! He's, hes at home, or...or something. No, hes not dead...he's not!"
I wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked my self back and forth, slowly. Tears rolled down my cheek bones and gathered on my sleeve. I closed my eyes. My head was soon pounding, like a heart beat. I closed my eyes, i couldnt stand seeing them all watching me. I reasted my on my forearms, and in a moment, it all washed back over me. 23

** *************** **24

I was awoken by a wave of sickening coldness, and i was shivering before i opened my eyes. As my eyelids pried apart, i could feel more icicles trickle down my cheeks. They slipped and fell over my shaking lips. I could taste the abandoned numbness. I was cold and achey all over. Blinking myself back to reality, i became scared. I did not know where i was. I could see pictures, nailed onto the walls. Expressions stained to the paper. The faces were so familiar, though i swear i had never seen this room before. Looking around i realized that in the past...forever, this was the first time that i remember waking up...alone.25

It was like a new freedom, one that i was entitled to ; but having it scared me. I needed them with me. Staring at the pictures, it felt as if my eyes were burning through the paper. I knew the faces, maybe only distantly, but i knew them. After an eternity of staring, i felt as if i were absorbed into that moment. Sooon i was flooded with the sounds of high pitched screams of laughter, the vision of bright yellow leaves scattering across the grass, dodging the childrens footsteps, the smell of rain and pumpkins. I could feel the warm breathe of autumn. I drank in the scene, when it suddenly dawned on me, that this was me. This was my life, my memory. That was my laughter, those were my leaves and my Autumn, that was my life that i abandoned. It all clicked. Finally, something made sense in my life, why did it take so long to get this through to me? I was shaking cold, but i was comforted with the knowledge that everything was going to be okay. I was home.26

It was if i was stuck in slow motion. I walked over and pulled open the door, remembering the heavy creaking of the rusty doorknob. I heard voices and i knew that i wasnt alone, and i was relieved. I didnt want to be alone. My light feet scattered over the wooden stairs, and i was suddenly distracted by the other door. 27

The bathroom door. I had to open it. My first thought was not to the floor, as i thought it would be, but it was to the mirror. Someone had replaced it. I realized that someone was staring back at me. Within moments, i saw that it was me that was staring back at me. I had lost weight. That was definite. And my face was paler than i remember, but then again, i couldnt remember the last time i looked at myself. 28

I hear the door slide open behind me and im soon aware that people are behind me.
"Chloe?"
"Im okay, really. I just had to see...where it all began. But im okay now." I say without turning around.
"Chloe, do you know what happened?" the question haltered somewhere above me, between me and the other man, but it took a near eternity before i was able to answer.
"Yes, yes i do."
"Do you want to talk about it?" the sincerity in his voice cause me to turn around and look at him. He was the one from the hospital.
"No." the word sounded wrong as it tumbled out of my mouth, and it did so out of pure habit. I can see you turn around and slowly i fallow you out of the bathroom.
"I mean, yes. Yes i want to talk about it."
Sitting down on the black couch, i started. 29

"Why was i brought back here? Did you guys give up on me?" i had to choke the words out, and i felt a little better after saying them.
"Chloe, we never gave up on you. We brought you back here because we thought that it may help you to recover, if you were in a place that you knew and in your own comfort. We never, gave up on you."
"Can i go back, i think...im ready." 30


*********** *********** **************31

I pulled a staff sweater over my arms and snugelled against it. Wandering down the hall, i wasnt overcome with the familiar fear that i expected that i would be. I was actually a little anxious. It wsa the first time that i ever made my way down to the dreaded office, willingly. I finally reached it, but instead of knocking, i just stared. At nothing and at everything at the same time. Finally, i raised my hand and knocked three times. Before i could have a second thought, the door swung open and i was greeted with a warm comforting smile, and i knew it was all going to be okay.32

You begin the session. You always begin the session but its different this time, because i was going to co operate, i was going to talk, you would hear my voice.
"I must say Chloe, i was surprised when i heard that you wanted to see me again. Now, i dont want to waste time so, where did you want to start?"
I swallow. After a breath of rising tension, I begin.
"It wasn’t my fault."
"What wasn’t your fault?"
"My mother, the fact that she’s dead, and that Holly and my dad are gone. None of it is my fault. I’ve blamed my self for everything that happened since my mom came back, and that wasn’t right."
"No, Chloe. It wasn’t your fault. You were a good, are a good kid."
I didn’t have a response to that.
"Your mother never told you, that she was once a patient here, did she?"
“She . . .she was?”
"When she was a teenager, she was in here for drug abuse. When we released her, she was back in with a matter of months, she was scared and she was pregnant and she could not tell her boyfriend. He was in the armed forces at the time, and she did not want to hold him back from that, so she broke it off with him and went out with his best friend. She stayed here throughout her pregnancy, and after the baby's father came back, he came to see her. That was the first time we saw you, Chloe."
"So, the man who died in the car accident, he wasn’t my real dad?"
"No Chloe, he was your dad. But he was not your biological father."
"Oh." I said softly. Surprisingly, I was not angry. I think that deep inside, I knew.
"Do you . . .do you know who my real father is?"
"Yes, I do."
"Can I meet him?"
"You already know him Chloe, but I would be honoured to properly introduce you two."
I nod. You pick up your sleek black phone and press buttons. You hang up your phone and smile warmly on me.
"He's on his way."33

The door slowly opened and you stand up and say, "Chloe, I would like you to meet your father."
I turned around and looked at the face of the man who had saved my life.
"Um...hi."
"Chloe, I know that this must be very difficult for you, and of course I don’t expect anything, so you can call me Mike. Or Michael, or Mr Wilson...or."
“. . Dad ?”
"Do you want to call me dad?"
"Do you want me to call you dad?" I challenged.
"I want you to call me, whatever makes you happy, Chloe. I'm sorry I was never there for you, or your mother."
"Well, Dad, it’s ok."
"No, Chloe, it’s not. I was never there for you when you were growing up, and-
"But, you’re here now. You are the reason that I am here."
"I thought that you disliked it here, so, wouldn’t that make you mad? Or upset?"
"Yes, it would. It did, but also, it makes me feel loved, that you cared enough about me to bring me here, even if it was against my will, so that I could get better. Without you, without you doing that..." I broke off, on the brink of tears. I looked at the floor.
"Come here Kiddo"
I stepped forward, and for the first time in my life, someone held me close. Not out of pity as my mother and other family members did, but out of love and compassion. Also, for the first time in my life, my father held me close, by the man who was literally responsible for my being. My world had finally started to make sense.34


After that session, I was kept at the hospital for a few more months. After that, Mike and I moved back into the house that I grew up in. It was different. I switched schools. Three times. Also, I took up creative writing and am now the editor of the school newspaper. Looking back, I have no specific emotion towards my past. It brought me here. Which I guess sounds redundant, but its just one of those things that has to be said. I have a new appreciation for the world around me, and the people, and I have learned the hard way that no matter how bad you have it, it can always get worse. I haven't turned into one of those Holy people that pray to God every second and shove it in peoples faces, but I do pray to God and I thank him for everything I have. As weird as it seems, I even thank him for everything I have been through. Cause looking back, even if I could, I would not change a single thing.
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