Life is…a Madhouse

My dad is dead, squashed by a semi-truck. My best friend left for the big city and broke contact, only to reappear after I tried to kill myself. My girlfriend dumped my ass, because I went bonkers on her and she can't take that shit. My Mom somehow managed to make a nemesis her boyfriend…well, at least she sticks around. And last but not least, my new home is a madhouse…literally.

The first steps on the same ground that I had bailed from not even 24 hours ago, are slow and insecure. My body would just love to turn around, 'cause I feel like the devil, walking into a church. But my mind tells me to keep going; to accept that need for help.

Of course, they are already awaiting me and I already would've bet that the welcome-present will be a straightjacket. But instead, it's just a wet handshake and a smug smile from Doctor Dickhead.

"Hello Chloe, I'm glad you're back!" he tries to greet me, but I simply ignore it and walk past him. No need to exchange a word or to apologize to this limpdick. Everyone follows me as I walk straight back into my room. Only as I throw myself onto the bed and start to cry out my pain, they eventually get the gist that I wanna be left alone.

I just feel how my mom gives me one last, slight hug before I'm finally alone in the dark, feeling empty and lonely.

Steph is gone. Max is gone. Kate is gone. Everyone I loved just crushed my heart. It aches. Aches so much that I'd love to rip it out! And the pain only stops as I finally fall asleep, though I know it will return in the morning.


"How are you feeling, Chloe?"

How are you feeling, Chloe? Not the first time I heard this stupid question, and I always answer it just with a shrug of my shoulders. But today, I can't hold back a snarky comment.

"Listen, dipshit! My Dad is gone. My best friend left for Seattle and broke contact only to suddenly reappear after my suicide attempt to show some pity. My girlfriend broke up with me, 'cause she can't handle my loose screws. And the cute girl, who became my new best friend and I crushed on like crazy, decided to visit a convent to run away from my gay influence. And you're asking if I'm okay?!"

For a moment, Doc Dickwat stays silent, but eventually grins and takes some notes.

"Very good, Chloe! We're finally making some progress. Now that you've opened up, we can work on your depression."

Opened up? What?! Is he serious?! Pft, I didn't… I-I mean, I just… I mean, I would never… I…Ugh, fuck you!

Instead of answering something, I just cross my arms and try to ignore this jerk's victorious grin. Jeez, how I hate this motherfucker! Never thought, that Dumbshit David would ever get some competition.

Sadly, this fucker is far away from being finished asking stupid questions and keeps going on my fucking nerves!

"And why do you think those unfortunate events happened?"

Don't flip your shit! Don't flip your shit! Don't… flip… Ugh, fuck it!

"Fuck, how should I know?!" I blurt back, almost about to jump at this asshole and choke him to death. "Maybe you and the rest of the world just hate me! Everybody hates me!"

Shit, I'm losing it. Actually, I don't wanna get soft in front of that wanker, but… I can't. I start to cry like a baby and just wish my mom would be here to gimme this much needed shoulder of hers.

"Everybody leaves me. I just… I just want someone to be there for me, but… They all leave and never look back. I'm so alone… so fucking alone."

To my surprise, Doctor Dick reaches me a box of Kleenex to wipe all that shit off my face. Does he care? I don't care! I just take it, but can't stop crying. He keeps asking questions, but neither do I understand 'em nor am I able to answer. Everything just crashed down on me, like a fucking giant wall that has been hit by a wrecking ball and now I'm about to drown in all that shit that is flowing out of that insanely hughe hole.

I'm shutting down. It's just too much. He broke me. Barely, I realize how a nurse brings me back to my room. Everything is dull…without any meaning. I try to sleep, but I can't. I wanna stand up, but I can't. It's like I'm paralyzed.

Steph, Max, Kate… I loved them, but I pushed them away. I know why they left. Because of me. It's my fault. My…fucking…fault.


4 weeks later…

I'm a prisoner of my own mind. Trapped, unable to escape. Doomed to watch while my body's acting on its own.

I follow the daily routine. Standing up, showering, breakfast, therapy, lunch, group therapy, spare time, dinner, bed time, sleeping…repeat. Every day the same shit for now a month straight.

Am I getting better? No. Not by a longshot. Since I came back here I haven't spoken one word. I bet the docs have already stamped me as lost case… Well, except the uber-asshat, Doc Larsson. Which should probably tell me, that he's probably not such a dickhead after all.

He still talks to me, tries to get me involved in group therapy. Still, he has this arrogant touch that tells me that he probably sees in me nothing more than a challenge. A giant mountain he has to climb to prove himself that he's the best.

Okay… I definitely won't let him climb atop me. Blech! And my inner punk refuses to play ball and give him the satisfaction of success. Yet, my subconscious also tells me to break this fucked up vicious circle I'm trapped in and get da fuck outta here!

Summed up: Everything and every day is nothing more than a stressful pile of shit. Only the lonely dark nights give me some quiet quality time. Time, in which nobody gets on my bum and I finally got the possibility to think straight… I mean straight as in…y'know what I mean.

Anyway, sometimes it even feels like I'm in trance… like I can't differ if I'm awake or asleep.

Every night I lie in the dark and think. Think about my life, those fucked up things that happened, Steph, Max, Kate, sex, Suckersergeant David, Mom, how to fuck over Doc Larsson and so on and so forth. You see, lots of stuff goin' on up there. I'd like to think of it as some kind of self-healing… maybe it works…maybe not.

Anyway, it always has something soothing to be alone. No people, no sound, no-…

"-one to have fun with. How boring!"

As Cassy's voice suddenly chimes beside me I yell "FUCKING SHIT!" and roll myself off the bed. Not a good idea since I'm hurtfully landing right on my sweet butt with a groan.

After shaking off the first very unpleasant surprise, I cautiously look over the brim of the bed and there she is: Cassy in all her dark gothic glory, sitting on the bed that she had once been sleeping in.

Damn, looks like they got her and brought her back while had slept in. Ugh! Goodbye, lonely nights. Hello, crazy nympho goth-chick!

"Cassy?! What the fuck…?! Did they get you?"

"Well," she scoffs, "kinda." And then gets super-serious. "Listen Chloe, I wanna apologize for Cassy's stupid behavior. I tried to stop her, but…"

"Wait-wait-wait!" I say as her words don't make any freakin' sense to me. "It was you, who behaved like an asshole!"

"No," she replies with a headshake, "It wasn't me. It was Cassy."

"Okay-okay-okay. Timeout!" I throw in again, feeling a bit confused and… Ugh, who am I kidding? I feel edgy like shit! But…I try to keep my calm and be reasonable. "Listen! I get it that we all are kinda insane, but you are Cassy and it was you who blackmailed and actually sexual abused me!"

Cassy, though, doesn't answer right away, but stands up and walks over to me with a warm smile. And before I even know what's going on, she has her arms wrapped around my neck and kisses me like there's no tomorrow.

Okay, you guys probably think I'm totally bonkers because I don't slap her silly on the spot, but… It feels so good after weeks without some mush. Still, I'm not a cheap slut and therefore try to stop this more than awkward situation.

"Cassy…mmh…s-stop! Ugh, fuck! S-stop it!"

She stops kissing me, alright. But only to whisper "Cassandra." And then continues sticking her tongue down my throat.

Softly, she lays me down on the bed and somehow I give in and simply succumb, feeling totally awesome and horny.

"You freed me! You finally freed me and gave me peace!" she speaks, her words still a fucking enigma for me. Not that I'm even able to solve a baby-puzzle anyway as her hand glides into my shorts and starts to play with my clit. "Lemme repay you that favor!"

To tell the truth, it feels good. And with good I mean fucking amazeballs! Because Cassy…Cassandra…whatever…takes her time. She teases me, finds the right spots. Hell, she even manages to find my g-spot and drags out my impending orgasm as long as possible.

"Oh Cass… Mmh!... I'm…I'm gonna… coooome!" I moan out loud as I come like I've never came before, clawing with my left hand into the bedsheets.

It takes me like – I dunno…maybe hours? – to finally come down from my high and get a grip of my surroundings.

"Cass?" I say, breathing heavily. But don't get an answer. "Cassandra?" I'm then calling out a bit louder and gaze around the room, only to find it dark, quiet and empty as before.

"Just a fucking dream!"

With a heavy sigh I let my head slump down onto the pillow again and realize just now that my right hand is buried deeply in my shorts. Slowly, I pull my index- and middle finger out of my still very sensitive pussy. Everything down there is drenched, not damp, simply fucking drenched.

Absently, I lick on my fingers to clean them – Well, what should I say, old kinks die hard – and start to think again. This time about my freakin' hot dream and Cassandra… and how intense I got off by just thinking about this hot goth-chick.


The next morning…

The entire last night, Cassandra was everything I could think of. I actually thought of her so much that I went another round playing with my pearl until I finally fell asleep.

And even now I can't get her out of my head. She's still there, like a manifestation. Yet, I don't know why.

Yes, I kinda have a little crush on her. Yes, she's sexy and perfect jerk-off material. Yes, I'm thinking about making her my loony-bin girl. But no, those aren't any fucking reasons to keep my mind busy all the time. Besides that I've kind of a bad feeling in my guts. So, I decide to finally break the silence and ask the doc about it. Which actually isn't easy for me since I would give him the impression that he has finally cracked me. But…ugh! But otherwise I'd go totally bonkers…literally.

Sadly, the first step's always the worst… Or the hardest…? Or both…? So, walking to his office alone takes me thirty minutes instead of five. And knocking on his door takes another five.

"Come in!" he orders and with a deep inhale I push down the handle and force my trembling being through the gap.

Doc Larsson sits at his desk, scribbling some shit in his notebook that he always carries around for quick notes. Befuddled he looks at me after he finally draws his attention to me.

"Chloe, what a surprise! How can I help you?"

The smile on his face is honest, not arrogant or victorious. Which gives me – again – the impression that he cares. Or maybe not. But right now, I don't give a fuck! I need to get this shit with Cassandra off my chest, because it's driving me insane.

Timidly, I wrap my arms around my body. I just don't feel like being badass, but brittle and edgy.

"Doc, I…I need your help!"

At first, I would've thought that he might go all aloof on me and would mention how good it is that I finally snap out of it, which would've probably put me into rage-mode right away, but no. Doc Larsson simply replies "Of course! Please…" and signs friendly at the comfy chair in front of his desk. "…sit down!"

I do as he told me and sit down, while he gets comfy too and readies his notebook.

"Okay Chloe, just tell me what's bothering you."

"Well,…" I start and abruptly hesitate as I kinda realize that I'm about to talk about some very intimate stuff. But does it matter right at that point? Should I give a fuck about that? It's not like there's much privacy here anyway. Still, I avert his gaze and start to blush, aaaand of course he notices right away…stupid wiseass shrinks!

"Take your time, and remember: whatever you say in this office stays in this office."

Though I know that he has somewhat sworn an oath to keep crispy details of his patients a secret, I still don't trust him. Which makes things even harder for me. I don't trust strangers. Never have, never will do, and especially no asshats. But what's the alternative? Bottom-line: there's none!

Fuck, I wish Katie or at least Mom would be here!

"I…uh…I kind wanna talk about Cassy."

For a brief moment I look up and – to my surprise – I see that Doc Larsson is entirely frozen, not scribbling anything down or something and that the mostly arrogant and superior demeanor of him had changed into some kind of stiff, non-readable expression that tells me that something's definitely fucked-up wrong.

"So," he then eventually answers with a fake cough, "you want to talk about your former roommate. Okay. What bothers you about her?"

He now looks at me, trying to act normal. But I see through his shitty façade and keep on staring at him, which makes him squirm in his seat out of discomfort. He's so hiding something from me, which pushes me instantly over the edge.

"Okay doc, spill!" I speak with a demanding tone and cross my arms. And for a fucking long moment we just keep on staring at each other, not giving each other even a freakin' quarter. If he thinks he can win this…well, I already pity his schedule, 'cause I've got all time in the world.

And then it happens. Sweet, sweet victory!

"Chloe," Larsson sighs and shakes his head in defeat.

Ha! Suck on this, motherfucker!

"If any, I would've wished to show you this when you'd have been better. But… Are you sure you want to hear this?"

Okay, now this bad feeling from last night is back again…tenfold! What the fuck is goin' on here?

I don't say anything, just stay stubborn as always, and that's it. More isn't necessary to make my opponent sigh in defeat once more. Then, he opens one of his drawers and pulls out a letter, which is packed in a plastic bag.

My quizzical frown shifts between the letter and Larsson, who reaches me the bagged envelope. Hesitantly, I reach for it and a second later it's in my possession. Without any resistance or another snarky comment.

Huh, I'm pretty much unused to that, but don't give any deeper shits about it since I finally wanna know what the hell is going on.

The zipper bag is quickly opened and the envelope in my hand. My name is written on it. And as far as I can tell, it's Cassy's writing. But… Why would she send me a letter?

Shit, this bad feeling in my stomach increases my breathing as well as my heartrate. Something inside tells me to not open that envelope, but my curiosity is way stronger and forces me to rip open the already been opened and resealed paper, unfold the sheet inside and read it.

Dear beloved Chloe,

When you read these lines, I'm probably not around anymore and have gone to a better place…hopefully.

Firstly, I wanna apologize for Cassy's rude behavior though it led to something very beautiful. This one beautiful moment we shared together freed me! It freed me from a life with shackles, where the only thing I could do was to watch how my body got abused to do horrible things.

I wish we would've met under different circumstances, without Cassy or this fucking loony bin. Because the short time we had together, I totally fell for you though I knew that it never would work out and this is why I'm ending it.

Chloe, please don't blame yourself for this! I made this decision long before we met but only you gave me the power to finally make that wish coming true.

But just because I'm giving up doesn't mean that you should give up! I want you to fight!

Fight for your sanity! Fight the shrinks! And for fucks sake, fight for your love! I know you can do it, because if anyone, you're the one who can beat 'em!

I just wish you a happy life and will always remain in love,

Cassandra

It's hard to read those last words on the tear-spilled and from my clenching grasp wrinkled paper through the blurry vail of tears that are leaking from my eyes.

A suicide note. A fucking SUICIDENOTE?! GODFUCKINGDAMNSHITSONOFABITCH!

"The police found her body two weeks ago at the beach. It's highly probable that she had jumped off the cliffs. She was carrying this letter sealed in her pocket.

Chloe, I want you to understand, and this is why I'm going to tell you who Cassandra really was and why she did what she did. You got that?"

What does he want me to say? I actually don't know what to think or say at all. Cassandra is gone and this makes me so fucking sad that I'd love to be alone right now. But on the other hand, I'd love to know what was really going on with her. So, I just nod and try to listen.

"Cassandra Ferryman had a strong split personality, which she had developed over several years of physical, psychical and sexual abuse. You can see it as some sort of a mental self-protection by putting a placeholder in charge while your true self retreats into the subconscious.

As far as we know, Cassandra's original personality got more and more suppressed by the placeholder, called Cassy as time went by and the torment continued, until only Cassy remained.

Approximately one year ago, her abusive family got killed in a fire. If it was her or just an accident…nobody knows. Seven weeks ago, however, she was brought here, because she had tried to commit suicide. And it wasn't the first time.

My theory is that Cassandra had managed to win the struggle with Cassy, several times and tried to end her misery, but failed. Until two weeks ago."

Cassy. Cassandra. One body, one split soul. I didn't know. But now her words make sense.

The dream. That letter. This was the real Cassandra and I helped her. I helped her to finally break free. But should I feel bad about it? Should I blame myself? I mean, she wanted it. No, she wished for it! She fought against Cassy and – as fucked up as it sounds – won the war. She broke free and I should do the same! I should fight against my fucking depression and get the fuck outta here!

So, I take a deep sniff, wipe my nose and cheeks with the back of my hand, say "See ya in group therapy, Doc!" and get the fuck back to my room to prepare myself to tear up some ass!


2 weeks later…

Group therapy.

Most people would think that it just sucks to be stuck in a room with a bunch of crazies. But truth be told: it's more soothing and entertaining than Dr. Phil and Oprah in a double-feature.

Firstly, everyone is sharing the same fucked up issue of being suicidal. And secondly, the stories behind those other peeps are pretty interesting. So, lemme you guys introduce to my group, starting to my left.

There's Steve. A 14-year-old sex- and porn addict, who used to jerk off ten times each day. Well, you might ask yourself what the freakin' hell he's doing in my suicidal group. As fucked as it might sound, but obviously, making their son suicidal was a better reputational choice for Steve's rich-as-fuck parents, than admitting that he's addicted to porn.

Then there's Clarence. He's a very chubby, 35-year-old pro-gamer and streamer, who still lives with his parents. When his WoW-account got banned, because some assholes hacked and abused it, he barricaded himself in his room for over a week, which almost got him killed, if the police hadn't cracked open the door and dragged him to the hospital, where he tried it again, calling himself the Gandhi of gamers. Ugh!

Next, there's Annabeth, short: Anna. She's the most fucked-up of us all. 17 years old, pierced and tattooed all over her body and needle-scars all over her arms and legs. As she couldn't afford her next dosage, she cut her wrists and went freely into therapy to get her hands on some meds. The thing is, she kinda likes it in here and refuses to go, underlining it by faking some other suicide attempts from time to time, and hell, is she creative.

Ever tried to kill yourself with a plastic fork or a steak?

Another mate is Kat, or Kathrine. Shy, wearing big glasses and her blond hair in a simple ponytail, she seems pretty inconspicuous. But boy, does she wear a heavy load for her tender age of 16. Abuse, bullying, plus the fact that she wants to be a boy… No wonder that she tried to jump off a bridge and right in front of a train. She became my new roommate 10 days ago and after some icebreaking we became good friends.

Last but not least, there's Erik, 13 years old. This poor guy lost his parents in a car crash and suffers from a heavy PTSD depression and wanted to join his folks by running in the middle of the highway. He survived and got brought here. I know how it feels to lose someone in a car accident and already talked with him about it. But he's far away from being okay and still needs a lot of time.

"Alright," says Doc Larsson as he starts the therapy, "let's talk about everyone's last week progress before we begin to discuss. Steve, why don't you start?"

"Uhm…y-yeah. Sure, Mr. Larsson, sir!" answers the lanky, red-haired dude nervously, blushing like hell, because just that you're a sex addict, doesn't mean that it's easy to talk about your masturbation behavior. "I…uh…I'm now down to twice a day and barely think about naked women."

Of course, everybody is clapping. That's simply plain curtesy.

"Very good, Steve!" praises Doc Larsson, making some notes in his notebook. "You made astonishing progress in the last two weeks. A very positive surprise!"

Aaaand stop!

Most of you guys – and Doc Dickhead himself – might think that this was only the doc's holy doings that encouraged Steve to stop wanking ten times a day, but actually, it was me!

Two weeks ago – after I had decided to blow up some shit here – I caught Steve as he tried to peep into the girl's bathroom. After some cheap excuses he finally confessed what's going on and I made a bargain with him: He would stop peeping on other girls and I would give him one of my panties. But this little creep was very clever. He offered me money plus the promise to stay away from the girl's bathroom permanently if I'd show him my tits.

Well, I'm not a girl who's shy about her body and actually don't give a fuck if someone sees my boobs…and some more cash always comes in handy. So, I just showed them to him.

But the big surprise came as he gave me a piece of paper, which showed that I was 2,000 bucks richer.

Holy fuck! I prostituted myself…and felt pretty shabby about it. But Steve simply refused to take the money back and, of course, wanted more…which was fucking annoying. So I had to come up with a solution to stop this. It took me some time and the realization that my body was the only leverage to outdo Steve's wealth and help him at the same time. Because – one day – his stupid addiction would get him in a lotta trouble.

So, we made a deal. If he manages to stop peeping at the girls and reduce his wanking back to once a day, I'd show him my bush. It was simple, it triggered him, it worked!

Chloe Price, the selfless hero, who could heal a sex addict with her pubic hair! Ha, suck on this, Doctor Dickhead!

But let's move on with the others.

"Clarence," addresses Doc Larsson our pro-gamer. "How are you doing?"

"I'm kk, Doc! At first I thought that I couldn't frag that OP depression. But, man, being here was mindblowing, like some Tangos had planted some C4 in my mind…kek!"

Oh yeah, Big C – how he likes to be called – has a weird way to speak in some sorta gamer-language. Don't get me wrong, I like that nerdy stuff like fuck, but in my opinion he's really overdoing it!

"And what about the fact that your account has been permanently banned and all your game characters are lost?"

Oh fuck!

Though most people think that gamers might be stupid, Clarence simply isn't. He has an IQ of about 150 and graduated from college at the age of 16. Then, he became addicted to games and financed his stuff by doing some shady hacking-jobs.

Anyway, Big C always tries to get out of here by pretending that he's healed. But the Doc knows his Achilles heel and uses it to trigger him… Which often means a giant eruption, lol.

Did I mention that he's a choleric?

It takes some time, in which Big C becomes redder and redder until he explodes.

"Those fascist fuckers! I'm gonna-…FUCK!" he yells and jumps up. Sadly – or even funnily – he's so clumsy that he loses his balance, stumbles over his chair and drops to the ground like a giant mammoth. Right away, two male nurses pick him up and escort him back to his room. Every time, the same shit… like Groundhog's Day.

Well, Big C, looks like you gonna stay in here a bit longer. But moving on to Anna.

"Annabeth," the Doc sighs in desperation as he looks at the punky street-girl, who's just giving him a stinky eye while crossing her arms. "Yesterday, you tried to hurt yourself with a spoon. Why in god's name did you do that?"

Anna only huffs and puffs and…answers cynically like a total asshole that she is.

"Well, Doctor, geez! I feel so shitty. Life has no meaning. Bla-bla-bla…"

Ugh, how much I'd love to punch her right in the face!

"Okay Annabeth, I tried everything to cure your…disorder. How about we try a diet this week, hmm? Porridge for breakfast. Salad for lunch, and soup for dinner. I think that should work."

While most of the group and the Doc looks at her with a devilish grin, Anna groans in anger, gets up an leaves. Granted, putting her on such a shitty diet is mean, but fuck, she deserves it! She always makes fun of others and annoys us with her fucked up behavior. So…yeah, take this, bitch!

And now it's Kat's turn.

"Kathrine, as one of our new members and this being the first time really participating and not just watching our group, I'm simply asking you: How are you feeling right now?"

"S-scared… Very scared, Mr. Larsson," she answers shyly and I feel sorry right away for this poor thing. Immediately, I stand up and wrap my arm soothingly around her shoulder, though I'm not supposed to do that during this Q 'n' A round. Actually, she's so intimidated that poor Kat is grapping my arm tightly and starts to cry, burying her head deep into my shoulders. Well, looks like group therapy is over for her. But at least she showed up and said something. That's a huge fucking awesome step!

"It's okay to be scared, Kathrine. You shared your current feelings with this group and that's a huge step!"

See, what did I tell you guys!

But enough boasting. Let's move on to our last member, Erik.

"Erik, being this your first time in this group, you're free to watch and listen. But, if you want to say something, just go for it, buddy!"

Buddy?! Oh jeez, always when you think the doc couldn't make himself a bigger embarrassing dickhead, he tops it with shit like this! Erik is a cool kid and in some ways waaay more mature than most grown-ups…or even me.

I see that he wants to say something. That he's looking for some courage to speak. But, sadly, he just does what every-freakin'-one of us did during the first time: he cries. And I'm there for him, too. Hugging him and telling him some soothing words.

Fuck sometimes I have the feeling that I'm everyone's big sister in here… Well, except for Anna. She's just the life-sucking, scrounchin' far-off relative that you would like to get rid of by kicking her off the next cliff.

And then there it is, my moment. My few seconds in the spotlight before the real shit starts. Doc Dickhead gazes right at me with a shit-eating smile and I already predict that shit's gonna hit the fan, as he says "Last but not least, Chloe!" Just the way he pronounces my name let my shitstorm-is-on-its-way-radar go off like shit.

However…right the opposite happens.

"Since your participation in this group, you've made quite some progress. And I'm more than proud to announce that you've rightfully earned your ticket home!"

Do you guys know the feeling when something really awesome happened and you just wanna scream and shout out of joy, but you're so freakin' stunned that you can't just say one, little fucking word? Instead, my eyes are starting to leak, making my vision blur. I realize that the others are putting some applause to it…everyone, except Kat.

Shit! I know I should be happy, but as I realize that Kat is gonna stay alone in here, I feel actually sad as hell!

I look directly at her and see the hurt in her beautiful green, welled-up eyes. She's so fucking hurt right now and I can't blame her. Sobbing heavily she leaves the room and I follow her not a second later, not giving a shit about the Doc or the rest of the group.

Kat runs, she wants to get away, maybe…maybe even hurt herself!

Shit! I can't let that happen! Not on my watch, dude!

We end up in our room. And as I arrive, Kat is already rummaging for something in her bag: a small pocket-knife, nobody has found in the secret compartment of her bag… Well, except me who saw her fumbling with it the other night.

I hid it…between my panties. Not very creative, but at least nobody would dig through 'em… Well, except Steve. But he wouldn't dare. Not with that deal we have goin' on.

Kat is clever. She knows that I took it. But before she could go all Hulk on me, I wrap my arms around her skinny figure and brush with my hand over her blond hair.

She buries her face in my chest and sobs like there's no tomorrow, and I join in, feeling pretty shitty upon leaving her alone.

My dream came true: I'm gonna get outta here. But it has a bitter taste, making me wanna vomit on the entire universe!


A few hours later…

Sometimes, it doesn't need any words to comfort someone. I think there even was a band that sung about this. My dad used to listen to them now or then. But what was their name? Deep-… Depth-… Moron…? Ugh, I can't remember.

Anyway, after crying arm-in-arm for god-knows-how-long, Kat and I had moved to my bed and lay down. She snuggled close to me, while I give her soothing brushes.

"I wish I would've been a boy," she says out of nowhere, letting me just answer with scoffed "Why?"

"Because my step-father is a homophobe," is her plain, yet very heavily loaded answer. And I instantly know that I'm about to hear a story that could've been written by the wicked lord of the underworld himself. "He never would've touched or…or…f-fucked me. Just the beating, no fucking…that would've been nice."

"I'm so sorry!" is everything I manage to whisper before my voice breaks again and press her even closer to me. But it doesn't last that long, as Kat lifts herself a bit up to look directly into my eyes.

"You're the first person who actually cares about and protects me! Who actually makes me feel loved, and…that's what I do, Chloe. I love you!"

Okay, just a little question: Is it possible that every freakin' girl is falling in love with me? Steph, Katie, Cassandra and now even Kat?!

I mean, I get it. I'm the cute, sexy, punkish girl that could be the dick-magnet of a movie or videogame. Too fucked up to be the protagonist, but definitely the gal of your wet dreams. But life isn't a fucking movie or game, so…what the fucking hell?!

"Don't worry, Chloe," rips me Kat out of my train of thoughts as she lays back down on my shoulder and starts to draw random patterns on my chest, right above my boobs…which kinda turns me on. UGH! Stupid body! "I'm not like this. I-I don't even know if I'll ever be able to have a sexual relationship. Still, there are…needs and…and they scare me."

"Dude," I answer and try to keep my hormones under control, "Just give it some time and don't ever force yourself to anything! If you need some private time, then take your hand and go for it. If you don't, just don't. The important thing is to feel comfortable with it and not letting yourself talked into something you don't want."

And there it is: silence again.

Kat's very smart. She thinks about her words…if necessary for hours. But on the other hand, she's very unexperienced, though we have the same age.

"I've never done it to myself," she then mentions out of nowhere and, though I love sex, I kinda feel uncomfortable to talk with Kat about this stuff, since I see in her more a sister than a potential girlfriend. Still, I'm listening and focus on not letting things get out of hands.

"Well, then just do it! It's not much to it. Just go to the bathroom and rub away!"

"It's not that easy, Chloe!" With a loud sigh, Kat gets up and sits on the brim of my bed, her head bowed and her fingers fumbling with each other. "I-I'm scared that…that those memories will return. That I…think about…him. A-about what happened."

"Y'know…" I then answer, sitting up too, right beside her and pull that cute gal in for another hug. "Maybe you should start slowly. Just get some chill. Explore your body. And if everything goes swell, just keep on going."

"C-can you teach me?"

Okay, cards on the table: If I do as she asks, I won't be able to stop. Nu-uh! Brain off, urge for inefficient procreation, on. And if someone catches us, then shit will get real. Let alone that even the slightest shit – even a wrong touch – could fuck her up for good.

Nope! Hands off, Chloe!

"Kat," I sigh and break the embrace. "I…I can't. It would make things complicated and…"

"Is it because I'm ugly?"

"No! Fuck no!" is my immediate reply, and as I look at her again and brush over her cheek to underline my words, I almost get lost in her beauty. Fuck, this is bad! "Y-you're very beautiful a-and attractive a-and…"

I look away to break this enchanting aura of her that almost forces me to get busy with her. My breathing is heavy and my heart hammers in my chest. And of course I'm blushing like hell. Stupid body! Get your shit together, Price!

A deep breath, a big gulp and a huge wave of disappointment is everything that it needs to break this vicious spell at least for a moment to finally wrap this up by saying "Listen, Kat! You're very cute and beautiful. But…I-I don't think that a fucked-up punk-girl like me is what you need. Believe me, I love ya like a sister, but…not more."

I already prepare myself for a big meltdown. Her expression has become kinda unreadable for me. A good sign, because she thinks about her answer…which I receive a few seconds later as she gives me a peck on my lips.

"Thanks for you honesty, Chloe!" she then surprisingly says with a warm smile, almost letting me think that I missed something. But she really means it. "This is why you're the only person I trust in this place. You would never betray or use me for your own good." Then her smile vanishes and sadness takes over again. "And this is also why I'm so sad that you're leaving."

"Hey," I reply and rub her shoulder to give her at least a bit confidence. "I'm not gone for good! I'm gonna have a chat with the doc and convince him that you're allowed to call me any time you want!"

"Y-you think he'll allow that?"

This time I give her my characteristic, copyrighted smirk and answer "You betcha sweet ass he's gonna do that!"


Later that night…

As soon as the hot water hits my naked body I let out a long, quiet sigh. This will actually be my last shower in this establishment. So, I try to kinda enjoy it. But only a few minutes later I get remembered how much it sucks to be in a loony bin.

I hear how the door gets literally kicked open, then some rummaging and then a naked Anna steps boldly into the shower, not givin' a fuck that I'm standing there. She just shoves me aside and hogs the stream of hot water.

"Hey dude, what the fuck?!" I complain and angrily ogle her being from head to toe. And of course, she simply doesn't give a fuck about that.

"Listen sweetheart, you can either fuck me, keep on showering or just take a hike. Your choice!" she only replies and closes her eyes as she let the water run over her head.

Well…I'd have expected that she'd simply kick my butt out of the shower and that's it, but such an immoral offer…?

Once more I gaze over her body. Tatts, piercings, some scars, well-rounded butt and tits, and – since any form of blades isn't allowed in here – a slight hairy cunt. All-in-all a sweet piece of girl, but

"I'd consider the first option, if you weren't such a giant asshole!"

From one second to another, Anna opens her eyes and stares at me with such an evil, intimidating glare that I'm almost about to regret my words… Almost!

"What did you just call me?" she hisses into my face, but I just cross my arms and repeat "Asshole!"

Faster and stronger than I'd given her credit, she put a tight grip around my neck and pins me against the wall. She leans in, our noses almost touching as her eyes still keeping at staring into mine.

Okay, now I'm regretting my words, 'cause I actually never considered that Anna might in fact be a fucking psycho. I try to keep my cool, but I actually can't hide how afraid I am at the moment. And, of course, she notices it and scoffs cynically.

"Just barks and no bite!"

Okay, that's it! You want a bite? Here we go, bitch!

I gather all of my remaining courage and swiftly grab her arm to push it away from my neck. Her fingernails scratch the skin a bit as she loses her grip and then I use my entire body to tackle her against the opposite wall. She groans as her body hits the cold tiles and I manage to twist her arm behind her back.

Now she's pinned to the wall…and doesn't like it, of course. But I just don't give a freakin' damn and just say "At least I've some dignity left, bitch!"

But what I just receive is somewhat of an eerie chuckle before Anna manages to free herself again. Surprised by this sudden move, I slip and land butt-first on the ground, a very vulnerable position, I might add. Yet, instead of beating the shit outta me, Anna sits down on my lap and softly wraps her arms around my neck. The evil glare has vanished and is now replaced by somewhat of a love-struck gaze.

What…the actual…fuck?!

"Y'know Chloe, once you've fallen so low how I did, there's no dignity left. You do everythin' for a shot. Handjob, blowjob, footjob, anal, pussy… You just sell your soul to get wasted. I can't even remember the last time I fucked just for fun."

Should I feel sorry for her now or just disgusted? I don't know, I don't care. And I have no intentions whatsoever to get busy with her.

"How about you act just for once nice and not like a totally fucked-up asshole? This would at least get you more credit and maybe a good fuck." I just say and try to free me from her grasp, but she holds on to me like a fucking tentacle monster from those crazy Animes and starts to grind her cunt over my thighs.

"Maybe you're right," she whiffs, before she throws her head back and lets out a deep moan as she tries to get off on my lap.

No…fucking…way!

Feeling disgusted and abused, I push Anna of my body and let a hard smack follow. And while I get up and get ready for more, she just keeps on sitting on the tiled floor and starts to cry.

"I'm sorry…" she whispers between two sniffs and pulls her legs close to her body. Heavy sobs follow as Anna – the almighty badass from the streets – has her mental breakdown.

Of course, I don't know how to react at first, but then ignore all possible danger as my too-fucking-good heart takes over and I give her a soothing hug. And to my surprise, she takes the much needed comfort and cries out everything that she has probably summed up over the years.


Being the cry-pillow and suggestion box for the entire suicide-squad of this hospital is exhausting as fuck… Let alone that it's almost past midnight.

As soon as Anna had finally stopped bawling, I had the chance to finish my shower. Dressed in my pajama-ish shorts and top, I make my way towards mine and Kat's room.

I have almost reached it as a quiet "Pst, Chloe!" catches my attention…and I know exactly who it is and what he wants. Nonetheless I wanna play dumb, just in case he wants something different – and I'm so not planning on pushing his nose onto that topic!

So, rolling with my eyes and letting out a silent groan I turn around to see Steve, peeping through the gap of his slightly ajar door.

"Hey Steve, 'sup?" I whisper as I move closer, cautiously taking a look around that no nurse catches me that late at night, talking with another patient. Alone, I could still say that I used the bathroom, but talking with Steve…? That's just bad you-you!

Sadly, I'm also too fucking tired to react as he grabs me by my top and pulls me quickly into his room. I stumble in and all I hear behind me is a click as the falls into the lock again.

Ugh, dammit! Not again!

"Y-you promised me something, Chloe!" he says with a shaky voice and as I look at him, I see that he's somewhat pretty much fucked-up and edgy…and has a boner in his pajama pants. Blech!

"Dude, it's late. Can't we just…?"

"We had a fucking deal!" is his whisper-yelled reply before I could even finish my sentence. "You promised that I'd see your pussy, if I cut my wanking to once a day."

"You're down to twice a day, hotshot!" I correct him plainly, crossing my arms. "And it was just my bush, not my pussy!"

"I haven't jerked off the whole day!" he screeches – See, told ya he's edgy – and then adds in a pleading tone "Isn't this at least worth a bonus?"

No, it actually isn't. Still, I'm so tired and just wanna go to bed. So, I groan in annoyance and pull down my shorts a bit to show him my crotch.

His eyes sparkle, his jaw drops and…he reaches in his pants and starts to jerk his dick.

"Blech! Can't you little creep just wait until I'm gone?" I blurt at him, pull up my shorts and shove him aside to eventually leave his fucking room.

Shiiiit! Why is this night so fucked up? Lucky for me I'm pretty much at peace with my sexuality, so that such crazy shit doesn't make me go totally bonkers.

As I reach my room, I press my internal delete-button and try to forget those past few hours. Then I finally lie down, pull the cover up to my chin, close my eyes and get ready to sleep.

However, in the silence of the night I hear rustle of fabric, some squishy sounds and Kat's heavy breathing. I slowly turn my sight towards her and see – now that my eyes got used to the darkness – that the blanket above her nether region moves rhythmically.

Well, looks like she already got comfortable with her body.

With a slight smirk on my face, I turn around and try to give her at least a bit privacy. But only after a slightly louder moan signs her orgasm, I'm finally able to fall asleep, knowing that my Kat is alright.