Disclaimer: I don't CSI: Miami. Remember that.
A/N: Yep, another creative writing assignment for the non-Creative Writing English class… LOL.
This particular drabble is RaVe. XD… It's kind of odd, but bear with me. LOL.
Mysophobia:
His eyes flew open. The new morning's orange hues peeked in through the closed blinds, lighting up the once dark room. With a smile, he remembered that he had the day off and wondered for a moment what he would do with his free time. Maybe go for a walk in the park. Maybe.
Edging his way out of his plastic covered bedroom and carefully avoiding the air purifier, he made his way into the bathroom. Everything was in its correct spot, in its own little air-tight container. He wasted no time while getting dressed and grabbed a bottle of Purell before leaving for the kitchen.
Distilled water and toast; they were the breakfast of champions. He was getting better, though. The other night, with some encouragement from his girlfriend, he had eaten a chunk of steak. It was overdone and very dry, but he wanted it that way, just in case.
With his breakfast finished, he got ready to go outside. The preparations consisted of putting on latex gloves and wrapping a scarf around the lower portion of his face. Both were unnecessary, considering the fact that he resided in Miami, Florida, but he figured that he better be safe than sorry.
His only simple reasoning was that there were germs out there in the world, waiting to come in contact with him. And he was afraid. He was afraid of what would happen if he let these germs into his system. The previous year he had even filed a lawsuit against a coworker who had sneezed on him. All those germs! The guy was equal to a murderer. Eventually, he dropped the charge, but it didn't put an end to his perpetual fear of germs, also known as mysophobia.
And so, there he stood in his foyer for a good fifteen minutes trying to convince himself that it was safe to venture outside. It was frustrating having this phobia because he knew it wasn't normal. But, every time he thought about germs a fear would sprout within, his chest would grow tight and hands clammy. In those moments, similar to now, he would forget how to breathe.
It wasn't fair. He wanted an ordinary happy life with a wife and kids, but kids equaled germs. And somehow, he figured that his girlfriend wouldn't want to wrap their children in bubble wrap. If he had kids, he knew that they would play in the dirty and get messy. That frightened him because he wouldn't know what to do. Hide in a closet? He couldn't hide forever. One day, he knew that he would have to fight his mysophobic tendencies.
But for now, he just had to get out the door.