Perfect (Rewrite)

Chapter Forty One

Chloe gasped for air as she sat up on her bed then looked around in every direction she could manage, checking her limbs and chest region for bindings, but there were none. She brushed her greasy tangled hair out of her face and then swung her legs over the side of her bed. The floor beneath her seemed to wobble as she stumbled her way to the locked door. It opened after the metallic click gave way and then the hallway ahead decreased in length with each step.

A door to her right opened up which only pushed her even harder to hurry. Chloe entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind her without even locking it to keep unwanted pests out. She grabbed a towel and threw it over the camera in the corner before stripping out of her clothes and jumping into the shower. Chloe shampooed her hair and cleaned her body, her eyes closed the entire time. Her entire body ached from being shocked, even though it had only been a dream, a memory of what used to be.

"Chloe," Melanie said after slipping into the room and sitting on the countertop. Chloe didn't respond with a word, but instead with a sound that was almost inhuman. "We need to talk, and you can't hide from us forever."

Chloe replied again with a different sound, her eyes still glued shut. She turned the water off and sat in the bottom of the tub as the final bit of water flowed down the drain. Melanie shuffled around in her seat and stared at the closed curtain.

"I've missed you," She told Chloe. "We all have."

Chloe finally peeked through her half opened lids and stared at the curtain beside her. She could barely make out Melanie's silhouette sitting on the counter; she wanted to tell her to go away, to shout at her, to scream at her for hours, days, weeks. But Chloe couldn't even find the strength in herself to speak let alone yell at someone.

Melanie hopped off the counter and paced back and forth. "Are you okay?" She finally asked and then waited for a response. "Chloe?"

"I'm fine," Chloe told her, pulling the curtain back, revealing her exposed self in the bottom of the tub. Melanie fought every instinct telling her to leave and stepped forward to help her friend, her forced sister, out of the tub. She grabbed a towel from the cabinet and handed it to Chloe who then began drying herself off at a slow yet steady pace.

"You look terrible."

"Thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that," Melanie replied. "I meant that you look ill. Do you have a fever?"

"I don't know," Chloe answered honestly, wishing she had already told Melanie to go away, but now decided against being rude to the only person who was still reaching out to her. She couldn't blame the others for being weary towards her; Chloe had been a little disoriented lately and it had all been without good reason.

Melanie felt Chloe's forehead and then shrugged her shoulders. "You feel fine to me, but maybe you should be careful."

"Maybe," She replied before sitting down on the floor. "Can you go get me a fresh change of clothes?"

"Do you promise you won't lock me out?" Melanie asked before getting a nod for an answer. She left the room swiftly, and then Chloe stared at the slightly open door, wondering how mad Melanie would've been if she had locked it. But before she could even move an inch, the door moved again and Melanie had returned with new clothes and a shaky breath.

Chloe changed quickly in front of Melanie, and then the two of them helped one another down the hallway. Jacob met them at the bottom of the staircase, his bruises were almost healed. Chloe wondered how long she had actually been stowed away in her room. It must've been days by the looks of it. David was sitting at the kitchen table alone; he slouched over the ancient newspaper like he did every morning.

Melanie led Chloe into the kitchen and then poured her a bowl of cereal, while Chloe stared at David's bruised cheek. "What happened?"

David looked up and met Chloe's gaze before shrugging his shoulders and saying, "You would know if you had been around." Then he folded the paper up and stomped up the stairs and into his room.

"What's his problem?" Chloe asked.

"We've all been punished," Margaret said, striding into the kitchen with the sleeping Collin in her arms. "He thinks it's your fault."

"He's not wrong."

"What?" Melanie asked. "Do you know something we don't?"

"All I know is that he keeps saying tick tock," She replied, looking back and forth between the two distraught women and their four bewildered eyes. "Whatever it is he wants us to do, we don't have much time to get it done."