Crazy

One

The Group Home

"Can't you see him?!" Chloe demanded, thrashing against the paramedics in white scrubs holding her down. One of them reached across her belly to grab the thick leather strap and brought it across the gurney. She started to cry as the janitor's face melted away, chunks of black skin peeling away, melting like plastic.

"Now can you see me, girly?" he wheezed, a chunk splattering on her chest.

Screaming renewed, she kicked out her legs, and the female EMT held them down while the male one stuck Chloe's arm. Ice pumped into her veins like slush and her head started to feel fuzzy, slow.

Above her, the janitor was laughing hysterically, swaying like he was caught in a breeze. His laughter reminded her of Mom, laughing behind Chloe as they rode an elephant at a zoo when she was little, the ground swaying, they were swaying…like the janitor…

Chloe's eyelids were bobbing as she fought to stay awake, the sticky fog wrapping around her eyes. She tried to blink but it didn't clear away the fuzz.

"One, two, three."

She barely registered being lifted as reality faded away.

When Chloe woke up, Aunt Lauren was leaning over Chloe, her cheeks red with tear stains. She dabbed at her nose with a crumpled up tissue. "A group home," she spat out, and Chloe absently watched wisps of dark red hair escape her bun.

The girl sat up slowly. Her mouth tasted like lemon-soaked cotton and her entire body felt groggy, heavy, weighed down with big, fat dumbbells. "G-g-group h-home?" she asked, confused.

"This was your last chance, Chloe. You've been in too much trouble, too many…episodes with you…illness," Aunt Lauren explained slowly, her blue eyes flaring with anger.

Chloe picked at the scratchy blanket.

"I forgot to take my medication this morning," she admitted softly.

Aunt Lauren let out an angry huff as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

Chloe sank back into the bed and pulled the scratchy blanket up to her chin, feeling humiliated and tired. Sleep tugged at her, and she was more than glad to sink into the oblivion it welcomed.

The next time she woke up, Chloe found herself in a pale, yellowy room, Ozzie, her stuffed koala, tucked in her arms, heavy comforter pulled up to her chin. Outside, there was noise and she buried her face in Ozzie's fake fur. He smelled like fake lemons.

"Oh," said a light voice, and Chloe watched through half-lidded eyes as a blonde girl in Gap jeans looked at her, draped haphazardly across the bed beside her. "I'm Liz."

Chloe ignored the outstretched hand. "Chloe," she stated apprehensively, sitting up while cradling Ozzie to her nonexistent chest. "Where am I?" she asked, watching Liz flip through some shirts that Chloe recognize as hers.

"Lyle Home for Disturbed Youths," answered the girl cheerfully.

Chloe's head pounded viciously. How could Liz be so happy, sitting there, humming the Hanna Montana theme song, when she was in a group home for crazies? Chloe barely paid attention as Liz chattered her ear off.

Feeling a bit more aware, Chloe kicked off her covers and swing her legs to the edge of the bed.

A pair of grey-white hands shot out and wrapped around the skin where her jeans twisted away from her socks. A trembling took over her body. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and remained stony.

"Chloe?"

The hands vanished. The laugh that bounced around from under the mattress sent chills racking through her belly.

"I-I—" Chloe stuttered, her mind chunky and sluggish from sedatives and sleep. "I have schizophrenia," she admitted quietly.

"Oh."

Liz seemed at a loss of words but then she noticed Chloe's red-streaked hair and, as the pair made their way down a set of stairs on the right side of a divide upper floor, she babbled reassuring, normal chatter in Chloe's ear about dyeing her hair blue.

"That's Tori. She's my best fiend but she's really moody," Liz whispered to Chloe as she gestured to a spiky, dark-haired girl leaning over a magazine at the kitchen table. She seemed…alright?

"That's Rachelle, or Rae. Bit of a diva. Likes things her way. She's got a thing for fire."

The girl Liz pointed out was a copper-skinned, dark-haired bombshell lounging in a loveseat, watching reruns of the Powerpuff Girls. She looked harmless enough.

"Hey, New Girl," said a voice behind them, and a guy stepped out from Liz's right side. He was cute, with spiky, dark blonde hair, a charismatic grin, and almond-shaped brown eyes.
"That's Simon. He's got anxiety, like Peter. And Derek's―when'd you get there?"

Chloe looked over, and a little yelp escaped her.

The guy was tall and broad as a doorframe, with long, scruffy black hair, intense eyes and golden skin; the only unattractive thing about him was the scowl on his face and the acne making his cheeks red and scarred but he made it look attractive.

"Derek's antisocial. Ain't that right, bro?" Simon said with a smile at Tori.

The girl flipped him off casually, and he laughed.

"H-h-hi," Chloe managed.

Derek's eyes flickering to her mouth was his response.

Liz continued to talk. "This is Chloe, she's got schizophrenia. And I'm Liz, as you know! I'm…hmm…what did they call it? Oh, yeah, anger management issues."

Chloe nodded as Derek brushed her arm; hear heart stuttered in response to being so close to a guy, especially one she found so handsome. "Sorry," he grunted.

She could feel her face become an inferno. "I-I—"

"New Girl!" sneered a voice, and Chloe turned, finding Rae standing there, her braids swinging and gleaming in the light. The TV was playing a Lana Del Ray song that made Chloe want to sway.

"Back off, Rae," snarled Tori, rising to her combat boots that Chloe was sure would hurt if she kicked someone with.

Rae flashed a sugary smile that made Chloe nervous. "Hello, Derek," the dark-haired girl purred.

Chloe glanced behind her, her eyes coming in contact with his dark blue sweatshirt. He was tense against her shoulder, and he radiated heat and a bit of BO. He shifted closer, his knee bumping her thigh.

Rae's gaze flitted to Chloe, and the blonde shrank back, back against Derek. His hand gripped her elbow firmly, and he was rock hard against her back, muscular. It was comforting, almost.

"H-hi," Chloe managed without stuttering too badly.

Rae's sharp eyes honed in on her.

"I-I—"

"Spit it out. Liz, see if you can slap her on the back. Restart her," Rae laughed before sweeping away.

Derek leaned away when she passed him.

Tears of embarrassment flooded Chloe's vision as the curvy girl headed upstairs.

"Can I rip her throat out?" Derek rumbled.

"I'm afraid that's too kind," Liz said in a cheerful voice.

Tori and Simon shook their heads while Chloe wiped the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand.

As they headed for the living room, planning on watching Tangled, Chloe thought she saw a glimpse of blonde hair and the smell of lavender invaded her nose.

Mom.

She stared hard at the spot, willing her mother's ghost to appear, wishing desperately.

"Chloe?" It was Simon, with his kind eyes and easy attitude. "Come on."

The first day in a group home is always…eventful.