It was a cold winters day in December. The silence of dawn was peaceful and calming, warm blankets were draped over the brisk air. For a few moments, she was trapped in her own bubble of tranquility, and all was at peace, if only for a moment.
Then her alarm sounded.
She groaned, groggily standing up to switch off the blaring noise that erupted from the other end of the room. She felt the cold air attack her body, and quickly grabbed her blanket to wrap around her cold form. She looked at her calendar, it was a Tuesday, the second day of the week. She counted her shirts, picking the second one on her left. Carefully putting her right arm, then her left arm into the shirt. Then she grabbed her second pair of pants. Right leg, then left leg. Right sock, left sock. She went to the bathroom, and turned on the tap. She washed both of her hands, starting with her right, until they began to bleed. She turned to her towel, littered with old blood stains, and wiped her hands clean. She made her way downstairs, placing the right foot down at the top. She counted 14 steps, and switched her feet at the last step so that her right foot left first. Her dad was fast asleep on the couch. The living room was covered in beer bottles, bringing the stench of alcohol with it. Careful not to wake her dad, she made a bowl of cereal at exactly 6:40, grabbed the second fork from the top, the second bowl, and the cereal in the middle. She ate, and waited until the time was on an even number, seeing it land on 8 (6:58?) PULSE instantly scowled and refused to move, saying indecipherable things into her ear. She got up at 7:00, put her bowl away, and washed her hands, until they were bleeding, again. PULSE kept telling her to wash the kitchen, which she did. The whole thing was done at 7:19, and she stood there, PULSE stood in her way, making her immobile until 7:20 struck.
She grabbed her books in a specific order. First her math binder, then her workbook, her reading material, then her lunch. She zipped the left zipper up, then the right one until they met perfectly in the middle. She was on her way out, when one of her shoes was out of order. She tried to leave it alone, but PULSE blocked the doorway. No matter her protests to push him away, he continued to tell her that she had to fix the shoes. Which is exactly what she did. She jumped across the doorway, careful not to step on the cracks, and locked the door behind her.
She took public transit to school every morning. The bus pulled up to the curb, and he gave her a soft smile, which she returned. She climbed the steps, skipping the third one, and placed her card upon the scanner. One of the only problems with riding the bus, was the number of germs that came with each person that entered. Not knowing where the people came from, what they've touched, who've they touched. So, she always wore gloves (right hand then left hand) whenever she rode the bus. She was careful to not touch any of the poles or seats with her hands either. The bus ride is boring and seems to stretch to many hours, so she busies herself with music that she borrowed from her Dad's old collection that he keeps hidden away in his room. She counts the number of beats in each song, seeing which is the longest before the bus comes to her stop.
She comes to the front doors of the school, PULSE opening and closing the door twice before she can go inside. She finds him perched on her shoulder, counting all the steps she takes and whispering it into her ear. He tells her to skip the 8th step, or something bad will happen to her dad. And she does. The bell rings, but PULSE tells her to go wash her hands, and the knowledge of all the germs becomes almost too overwhelming for her. She races to the bathroom, PULSE counting her steps the entire way. She frantically washes her hands four times before drying them. The second bell is about to ring. She goes to her class, PULSE opens the door and shuts it, then she walks in. Her classmates don't notice this odd ritual and she sits at the first available desk, noting it's the fourth one from the door. She tries to remember what class she's in, but PULSE begins tapping his gnarly fingers on her desk, which is very distracting to say the least. She hears numbers playing in the background. Looking around she finds herself in math class. They're reviewing exponents. She's determined to stay on task, but alas, PULSE decides that tapping on her desk sounds much more exciting. He comes close to her ear, whispering gross thoughts. Perverted thoughts that she's sure aren't her own. She's quite disgusted with her brain, and the tapping takes on a more aggressive rhythm. The teacher notices "Z, is everything alright?" It takes Z a minute to notice someone is talking to her.
