"Hmm, so Max....with what you've described to me. I am going to diagnose you with 'somethings' called PTSD and Schizophrenia. And with some medication, if you'll sign some papers. " the doctor clasped her hands together.
"W-wait what? What are you going to diagnose her with?! " Chloe exclaimed. Her anger was obvious. Meanwhile, Max just stared at the palms of her hands. 'I'm schizophrenic? ' she thought quietly. Not even bothering to acknowledge the mention of PTSD.
Half of Max knew this was somehow destined to happen. Yet the other half is fully against accepting the change.
She is torn apart by these two different sides. She's terrified of accepting it or ignoring it. She would take the meds if it was needed, but she isn't sure if she's going to need it though. But she is pondering if she should rewind to stop Chloe from raging on the psychiatrist, which she is currently doing.
"Chloe," Max said calmly, gracefully placing her hand on the punk's shoulder. "Please calm down would you? " the photographer questioned– said. "Uhm, yeah... " Chloe sat down again, surprised by the strange demeanour Max owned. "How would I get medication for...my mental illnesses. " she quietly questioned.
"Oh, I would need to give you some special papers, and then you'll hand those to your local pharmacist. " she smiled. "Well, can I have these 'special' papers then? "
-
The two women walked outside of the office, just for Chloe to yell "FFFFFFFUUUUUCK." She then continued to smash the nearest glass table with her bare hands. "GAH! DAMNIT," she yelled once again. "Augh. Max, rewind? " she asked. "No, you did that on your own. " Max smiled as she frolicked away. Leaving Chloe frozen in her spot, while her hand bled out.
"Well. Could we at least head back to our house? " the bluenette questioned blankly. "Maybe... " Max grinned. "Oh come on! And because you won't rewind, I'm bleeding out of my hand right now! If anything I'm the one with PTSD! " Chloe whined.
"Oh don't be a baby Chloe! " Max laughed. She felt like she was taking this way better than Chloe!
.
.
.
.
.
But she wasn't.
It wasn't until Chloe and Max were about to head to bed when Max just simply realized, she's schizophrenic and has PTSD.
And just like that. Something inside her snapped. Before she knew it, she was crying– sobbing even. And it sure wasn't long after when the blueberry noticed. "Maximus? " she asked.
But at that moment she didn't respond.
She felt everything shatter. And in that very scene, a gust of voices came rumbling toward her. Different people she knew. People she couldn't save in the Storm. The very Storm that cost a town filled with hundreds of innocent lives.
You could almost call Max a mass murderer.
All the guilt and sadness she buried deep inside her were just released and caused so much havoc inside her head. Flashes of people's faces she couldn't save.
Warren.
Kate.
Joyce.
Brooke.
Frank.
Juliet.
Dana.
Hell, even William.
And so many more.
Way more fucking lives were lost at Chloe's expense.
All because she 'missed' her.