❝He's got these weird habits and ways of getting through the day. If he messes up he goes crazy. A freak is what he is.❞
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HE CAN'T WASH his face with out washing it more than once. He feels that the dirt wasn't scrubbed off completely the first time. He can't brush his teeth with out brushing them more than once. He feels they weren't clean enough the first time.
He exits the bathroom.
He can't go to sleep with out checking if the lights are off more than once. He feels that they didn't turn off the first time.
He then takes exactly twenty four steps to his bed. No less or more than twenty four. It has to be exact.
It had only happened four times this year that he messed up that routine. At first it was three, but he was so irritated with the uneven number that he messed the routine up a fourth time to calm himself.
He pulls his covers up and slips into his cozy cocoon.
You messed up your routine.
Your face isn't clean enough.
Your teeth aren't clean enough.
The lights aren't turned off completely.
Your steps to bed weren't even enough.
He squeezes his eyes shut in hopes of blocking out his irritating and bombarding thoughts.
You messed up your routine.
Your face isn't clean enough.
Your teeth aren't clean enough.
The lights aren't turned off completely.
Your steps to bed weren't even enough.
"I didn't mess up my routine!" He snarls.
It didn't sound right the first time.
"I didn't mess up my routine!" He repeated in a deeper tone.
No, his voice cracked, he didn't like it.
"I didn't mess up my routine!" He insisted loudly to himself a third time.
A third time.
Three.
He didn't like that number. He didn't like odd numbers at all.
"I didn't mess up my routine!" He shouts it again.
Much better, he thinks.
You messed up your routine.
Your face isn't clean enough.
Your teeth aren't clean enough.
The lights aren't turned off completely.
Your steps to bed weren't even enough.
Yanking himself out of bed, he stands up in frustration. He takes exactly twenty four steps back to the bathroom. He would do his routine again. And this time he would get it right.
That night he told himself he would get his routine right after doing it again five more tries. He then did it a sixth time, because he didn't like the number five.
He didn't like odd numbers at all.
YOU ARE READING
w r e c k a g e ✓
Short Story❝ − It's a terrible thing, the destruction of words.❞ All rights reserved @ o p t i c a l i t y | 2017
