Chapter 17 – Chloe’s P.O.V.
The woman sat there, her legs crossed properly with her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes skimmed over the packet I previously—well Harry—filled out. Harry was sitting beside me, his eyes locked on my face while mine was locked on the woman’s. The desperation to reach over and squeeze Harry’s hand was killing me, but I didn’t want to seem weaker than I already am.
“Well,” the woman said softly as she looked up at me with a smile, “it’s nice to meet you, Chloe. I’m Dr. Price.”
All I did was nod, my hands subconsciously going to my thighs. It was a nervous habit of mine, so I was awfully thankful for the jeans as I dug my nails into the fabric, dragging them down my legs. As if Harry could sense my nervousness, he took it upon himself to reach over and grab my hands. I looked over at him, but he gave me a worried look and frowned at my previous action. I pulled my lower lip between my teeth, soaking in the warmth of Harry’s hands entwined with mine. He might be stopping me from cutting my thighs, but he’s also stopping me from much worse.
More than he could ever know.
“How long have you been like this, Chloe?” Dr. Price asked sweetly.
Like this? Can I get a definition, please? Did she mean deranged? Idiotic? Demonic? Insane? She should really be more specific. I happen to have multiple things wrong with me, so I really don’t know how to answer her question.
I shrugged.
Dr. Price pursed her lips, as if trying to keep her patience. “Well, that’s quite all right. Can you tell me some things you tend to hear?”
Immediately, the voices riled up, screaming at me to keep my mouth shut. I squeezed Harry’s hands tighter, the urge to cover my ears becoming almost unbearable. My eyes clamped shut, my bottom lip shaking as they only grew louder and louder, almost tauntingly.
I shook my head frantically, my hair whipping back and forth.
“Chloe,” Dr. Price said, “you have to tell me these things so I can help you get better, dear.”
My eyes flew open, but the fear never left me as I croaked out, “You can’t help me.” I meant it; she was powerless compared to them.
“Chloe,” Harry’s voice soon spoke, making me turn to look at him as water burned my eyes. “They can’t hurt you, remember?” he said softly in attempt to soothe me, but it wasn’t working. He was wrong, and Harry is hardly ever wrong.
“They already have,” I whispered, tears trickling down my cheeks as I slipped my hands from Harry’s grasp. They were becoming insolent in my mind, incessant with their screams and pleas and cries. I couldn’t help but to clamp my hands over my ears, pulling my knees to my chest. “They won’t stop!” I cried out, my tears coming harder, faster than ever before.
You can’t win, they said. You never win, Chloe. No one wants you. Give in to us. Stop fighting it. You can’t defeat your masters.
“Stop, stop, stop!” I screamed, my body curled up as I fell onto my side on the couch. Harry leaned over, one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip. He was trying to help me while the therapist sat back and observed my episode.
“Chloe, snap out of it. You’re safe,” Harry said frantically, tapping my cheek lightly with his fingers. My sobs turned into sniffles as Harry rubbed my arm comfortingly. “I’m right here,” he whispered. “I’m still here.”
My hands slowly slid from my head, but my eyes squeezed shut as tears pressed through. I bit my bottom quivering lip, curling in tighter as if I could make my own shell and protect myself. Harry was practically leaning on me, nearly in a cuddling position as he kept rubbing my arm, gently shushing me and repeating those blessed words, “You’re safe…I’m right here.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, but I wasn’t sure who I was directing it to. The therapist for my freak out? Harry because he always has to deal with my crazy mind? The voices because I always seem to disobey them? Or God himself for being so screwed up?
Maybe I was apologizing to all four.
Harry’s P.O.V.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Price said. “I can’t help her.”
“What the hell do you mean you can’t help her?” I hissed as my jaw clenched. “You’re a therapist, you have experience, and you can’t help her?”
Dr. Price lifted her glasses to the top of her head, rubbing her nose. “I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. I’ve never had someone like her before, so I’m powerless against whatever mental debate she has going on inside of her.”
My jaw tightened, my hands curling into fists as I heaved them angrily through my hair. I just want to help Chloe, to help her get better, but I can’t even give her something so simple. I’m a failure.
“You seem to help her just fine,” Dr. Price commented as she rose her eyebrows. This caught my attention as I jerked my head to face her, my eyebrows etching together. Dr. Price shrugged. “You calmed her down rather easily in there, if I do say so myself. It seems like she’s really fond of you.”
Letting out a breath, I rubbed my face. “She’s living with me right now,” I said softly, glancing over at Chloe as she sat in a chair in the waiting room, her knees pulled to her chest. She flinched with every noise, she cringed whenever someone passed her. I hated seeing her so nervous. I hated it.
“Her father is an abusive asshole—“
“So you didn’t think it’d be good if she stayed there,” Dr. Price finished for me as I nodded. “There’s very kind of you, Mr. Styles. Not too many people are willing to take in the mentally insane.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I grumbled, eyeing the woman sternly. “She’s not insane.”
“Then how would you describe her?” Dr. Price challenged, folding her arms across her chest.
“Confused,” I said instantly. “Distraught, lost, hopeless; she’s anything but insane. She doesn’t deserve that title.”
Dr. Price rolled her eyes. “It seems to me you have a little crush on your mental friend over there.”
My eyes narrowed at her in anger. Now she was just purposely provoking me.
“Let me tell you, Mr. Styles,” Dr. Price said as she stepped towards me, jabbing a finger in my chest, “the only place that girl belongs is an insane asylum.”
With that, she stalked away with her heels clicking the tiles, then her office door closed. My hands clenched and unclenched, my mind whirling around each word she said. Chloe doesn’t deserve rehab; I can help her. If that bitch can’t even see her for a second time, I’ll help Chloe. I’ll help her get better. Whatever struggles she’s going through, I’m going to help her get through them.
She isn’t alone in this anymore.
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A/N: Sorry this chapter is somewhat short -.- I failed you guys, oops. Anyway, I really wanted to stop it there but bleh. I'm so sick ... LOVE YOU ALL xx
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Schizophrenic // Harry Styles
Fanfiction❝Monsters don't sleep under your bed; they scream inside of your head.❞
