Asylum (45 page)

            Chloe
didn’t move, she stayed in her crouched position, rocking on the balls of her
feet.

            “Okay,
fine.  You know what?  You should be flattered, you know that?  You’re all mad
at me now, I know, but put yourself in my shoes for a minute.  What do you
think it’s like being me, huh?  I’m pretty too!  I’m smart!  I’m funny and fun
to be around and…and sometimes I can even be really nice, but no one ever sees
that!  Why do I have to be the sidekick, huh?  It’s always about you.  The hot,
all-star hockey R.A. guy falls in love with YOU, the professor wanted us to be
TA’s because of the papers YOU wrote, the ghost writes YOUR name on the wall, even
the fucking homeless guys, they kept talking to YOU, like I wasn’t even there. 
I’m just nothing.  I’m just the piece of crap that winds up getting an
intervention, because even my family thinks there’s something wrong with me!  I
didn’t even kiss him Clo, I swear to God I didn’t!  I was going to, but it
didn’t happen!  I wanted to be the one that was wanted.  Sometimes, I want to
be the one that someone looks at because they think I’m special, that I’m
something! Can’t you understand that?  Damnit Chloe, say something!” Sam
demanded.

            Chloe
made a low sort of moaning noise and covered her ears.

            “Look
at me, Clo!  Look…I’m sorry!  Do you even hear what I’m saying?  I’m sorry! 
I’M SORRY!” Sam yelled.

            Fed
up with being ignored, Sam leapt at Chloe and grabbed her by the shoulders,
determined to make her look.  She gave Chloe a hard shake.

            Chloe’s
head flopped backwards, her neck not bothering to support the weight.  Her
glazed over eyes stared through Sam.  Huge, dilated eyes that saw nothing…dead
eyes.  Her mouth hung slack.

            Terrified,
Sam shook her again.

            “CHLOE!”
she screamed.

            Chloe’s
eyes rolled to the back of her head.  Her eyelashes fluttered manically over
the whites.  Under Sam’s tight fingers her body convulsed.

            Dropping
the shaking body to the floor Sam jumped up and scrambled over the desk.

            “Hold
on Chloe, I’m getting someone, hold on,” she called.

            Down
the hallway she ran, wildly trying to come up with an explanation.  Seizures? 
Could Chloe be having a seizure?  Stress…shock…what the hell was going on?

            She
burst into Seth’s room and surprised him still sitting in his stupid, dirty,
old chair.  One look at her face and he was on his feet.

            “What
happened?” he demanded.

            “I
don’t know!  You have to come, I don’t know what’s happened to her.  She’s
having some kind of breakdown or seizure or something.  She won’t answer, she’s
on the floor shaking, oh my God, what do we do, what are we-”

            She
was talking to air.

            Sam
hurried to keep up, but he was running and he was faster.  Seth tried to open
the door, she heard the bang when it hit the desk.  Without stopping, he threw
his full weight against it, and the door flew open.  She caught up to him just
as he was shoving the desk out of the way.

            “Chloe!”
he said, dropping to his knees.

            She
was curled up on her side in the fetal position, still shaking.  Sam watched as
he partially lifted her, cradling her with one arm.

            “Clo,
stop,” he whispered.  “stop.  I’m here.  You’re okay, it’s all okay.” With his
free hand he brushed the dark strands of hair away from her mouth and off her
face.  He rubbed the back of his hand against her cheek and whispered
ssshhhhh
,
over and over.

            Chloe’s
body stiffened and then went limp, her eyes closed  Seth continued to whisper
at her.

            “Is
she…?” Sam asked peering over his shoulder.

            Chloe’s
body suddenly surged forward into a sitting position, ripping herself out of
Seth’s arms.  Her eyes were still closed, her head lolling on her neck.

            And
then the eyes snapped open, different now, horrified eyes, eyes that saw something
neither Sam nor Seth could see.  Chloe began flailing wildly, slapping at
herself…her legs…her thighs.  Her mouth a perfect oval, the shape of someone
screaming a soundless scream.

            “Do
something!” Sam shrieked at Seth.

            “Chloe,”
he said again, trying unsuccessfully to grab her hands.  “Chloe, you’re safe. 
Chloe can you hear me?  It’s okay.”

            At
last, not knowing what else to do, he wrapped her in a restraining hug, not
allowing her the use of her arms.  Her body still struggled, fighting against
his grip.  She jerked her head from side to side.

            “S’
burning…gotta stop it…everything…burning…” Chloe gasped.

            “Nothing’s
burning, nothing, Clo.  You’re in your room, you’re safe.  You’re here with
me.  Nothing’s going to hurt you,” he soothed.

            She
fought a moment more and her body went slack again, limp.  Her eyes closed. 
Seth leaned her back against one arm and slid the other beneath her knees.  He
lifted her carefully and laid her on the bed.

            “We
have to call someone.  She’s breathing, right?  Is she breathing?” Sam asked.

            He
was crouched down next to the bed, his hand against Chloe’s face, watching her
intently.

            “Seth?”
Sam raised her voice.  “We have to call someone.  This is bad.  She might have
to go to a hospital or something.”

            Still
not answering he leaned forward, his face so close to Chloe’s that Sam thought
for a moment he was going to kiss her.  Instead he froze, his nose an inch from
her lips.

            “What
the hell are you doing?” Sam demanded.

            “Alcohol. 
She smells like alcohol, real strong.  Was she drinking?  I thought she was at
the library,” he asked.

            “I
thought she was too!  I don’t know!  I don’t-” Sam paused in the midst of the
beginning of a  tirade.  Her eyes fell on the open bottle of vodka on Chloe’s
desk.  The incriminating ring of liquid and the shot glass with a tiny line of
wet at the bottom, a red flag.

            “Yeah,
it looks like she was,” Sam glanced at the level in the bottle with an
experienced eye.  “It looks like maybe four or five shots tops, though.”

            “What
did she say to you when you came in?” he fired back, climbing to his feet,
“What was she doing?”

            “Nothing!”
Sam insisted.  “She was crouched down over in the corner, and I started talking
to her and she didn’t even look at me.  I don’t know what the hell she was
doing, freaking out-”

            “There’s
broken glass everywhere!” Seth pointed at the shattered remnants of the
mirror.  “Was it like that when you came in?  She didn’t say anything?”

            He
spun around, surveying the room as though it could give him some clue as to
what was going on.

            “It
was like that,” Sam defended herself.  She was on the floor over there, and
there was glass everywhere, and I asked her why she did it, and she didn’t
answer, I just-”

            “This!”
Seth stabbed one finger at the wall behind her.  “Was this here?”

            Sam
turned.  Scrawled across the wall in black marker she read the words ‘
They’re
watching
’.

            “I
don’t know,” she admitted quietly.  “I don’t.  I don’t remember seeing it, but
I don’t remember looking that way either.  What do you think that’s supposed to
mean?”

            “What
about your ghost?  He wrote
trapped, help, AM
, I don’t remember all of
it, is this one of the messages that’s shown up before?” he asked.

            “No,”
Sam shook her head.  “No, and he hasn’t written anything or done anything in
forever.”

            “What
the hell happened in here?” he whispered.  Sam got the feeling that he was
talking to himself and not to her.  She wrung her hands and took a few calming
breaths.

            What
did
happen?  Sam glanced between Chloe’s body, the vodka bottle, the
words on the wall, the broken mirror.  A growing feeling of dread, followed by
a wave of guilt washed over her.

            Seth
walked over to Chloe’s desk, he lifted the vodka bottle and looked at it.  Then
he stepped around the desk and picked up an uncapped black marker.  He set it down
next to the shot glass and kicked at some wadded-up balls of paper that had
spilled out of the overturned garbage can.

            “Seth,”
Sam said in a low voice, “I’m starting to think…now that I think about it, it’s
kind of obvious what happened.  I mean…she was really upset.  She came in and
must have pushed the desk against the door, and you didn’t see it, but when I
first came in she had the window covered with a blanket too.  She barricaded
herself in, took a couple of shots and just started freaking out.  She must
have broke the mirror, and wrote on the wall herself.  I don’t know if she told
you or not, but it’s not the first time.  She’s had…an episode like this
before.  Seth, they put her in a nut house when she was in high school.  I
think she was so upset or hurt that she…what do they call it…regressed?”

            “That
was different,” he answered sharply.

            “I
don’t think so.  I think that’s what you want to believe,” Sam said.  “We’re
going to have to call someone, get some help.  That’s the best we can do for
her right now.”

            Seth
shook his head ‘no’, but didn’t say anything.  Instead he stooped down, turned
the garbage can upright and starting putting the paper wads back in it one at a
time.  As she watched, he smoothed out one of the discarded papers and began
reading it.

            “I
honestly think we should call her mom,” Sam continued.  “It’s really our only
option.”

            Seth
dropped from crouching, to sitting on the ground and grabbed another wad of
paper.  This he uncrumpled and read as well.  Then another, and another, laying
each wrinkled sheet on top of each other as he finished.

            “Awww,
Clo,” he finally whispered.

            “What
is it?” Sam asked curiously, taking a step forward.

            Seth
laid a hand on top of the stack of papers.

            “She
loves me,” he said, somewhat dumbfounded.

            “Okay,”
Sam blew an exasperated breath..

            Leaving
him to pick through garbage, Sam began opening Chloe’s desk drawers and rifling
through them.

            “What
are you doing?” Seth asked.

            “Looking
for her cell phone, do you see her bag anywhere?  She usually keeps it in her
bag,” Sam explained patiently.

            “Why
do you need her cell phone?”

            “Her
mom, Seth.  We’re going to have to call her mom,” Sam explained.

            “We
are not calling that woman,” Seth answered.  “We are not!”

            “What
do you propose we do?  Take her to the hospital or something?  Her mom will
know what to do.”

            “Just…”
Seth rubbed at his forehead vigorously.  “just give me a second, damnit, just
let me think a minute.”

            Sam
threw up her hands and rolled her eyes to the ceiling as though silently petitioning
the heavens.

            “When
that girl down at the end of the hall, the one that left the night we went to
Traverse City, started acting funny and writing on the walls or whatever, you
said she was possessed, Sam,” he remembered.

            “Yeah,
I don’t know, I thought she was, but she was also really really drunk,” Sam
shook her head at him.

            “No! 
I remember you tried to tell me that someone had seen her levitate, that she
was possessed and when I tried to say that maybe it was all just an act you
said…in fact your exact words were,
 you would not doubt me at all if you’d
seen her
.  How is that different from what’s happening to Chloe?  Why were
you so sure Mel was possessed, but Chloe isn’t?” he demanded.

            “Okay,
she’s possessed.  There, does that make you happy?  I still think we should
call her mom-”

            “No!”
he cut her off, “No.  I’ll think of something.  Just give me a minute to
think.”

            He
went to the bed and bent down at Chloe’s side, covering her hand with his own.

            “Wake
up,” he whispered.  “Come out of it, Clo.  What should I do?  What do you want
me to do, how can I help?  Come back.”

            Chloe
didn’t stir.  Sam pursed her lips and shook her head at him.  Why did men have
to be completely useless whenever there was a real crisis?  She looked away
from him in disgust.  The window reflected the room like a black mirror. Sam
blinked and rubbed her eyes.