Schizophrenia.

Horrid Hospital.

The nurse hands me some pills and cranberry juice. I down the pills, like I always do. Some people hate taking meds.

But I'll do whatever it takes to get rid of this stupid illness.

Suddenly, I see a tall figure standing in the doorway of my room.

"Chloe?" It's the voice of a guy.

Josh.

"What are you doing here?"

What the heck?

"I wanted to see you." He smiles and sits in a chair.

"Well, here I am." I mutter, why would anyone want to see me?

"You look lovely."

"E-er, thanks." I feel my cheeks heat up.

I was wearing jeans and a Yankees shirt.

Lovely?

"Yeah! The hobo look is totally in these days." A voice snickers, a few others join in.

I sigh softly. I wish the voices would at least be nice.

"How have you been feeling lately?" He asks, a look in his eyes that I just can't define.

It looks like a mix of sadness, fear, and worrying.

"Okay." I shrug, not wanting to tell him why I was here, because as soon as I'd say the words 'I cut myself...' he'd probably interrupt me about how depression is just going to make things worse and that 'everything is going to be okay' even though that's a complete and utter lie. Then I'd try to explain I cut myself accidentally but he wouldn't believe me and he'd give me this look that pretty much shows how dissapointed in me he is.

Like most people are.

"Why are you here?"

Damn.

"Uh, I overdosed. Again. Not on purpose this time." I bite my lip.

He nods and offers a jolly rancher but I polietly refuse.

Those things make me sick.

"So.. you didn't miss much at school."

The kinda cool thing about Josh is that he's still in high school, so we have the same classes. He's fun to gossip with, even if gossiping means him speaking and me trying my hardest to listen without being distracted by those chilling voices.

We talk for hours, well, he does. The nurse tells me that I can leave, but my mother, like always is at work.

"I'll drive you." Josh looks at me. I nod greatfully and we leave that horrid hospital.