A/N: I do not own the characters
Warnings: -OCD disorder
-paranoia
-schizophrenia
-mysophobia
Also! Read this thing! Please tell me if this chapter is a little, I don't know, um, unreal? It's sort of supposed to describe how a person feels while encountering a phobia, so it might look supernatural. Tell me if it's too much!
After I got home, it was 12 pm. Just enough to take a shower.
I got a spare pair of clothes, a towel, and went to the bathroom.
Once in, I locked the doors (yes, I lock my bathroom, but not the apartment), and inspected the bathroom. I kept thinking there was someone watching me. I'd get freaky if there were any bugs in there, too. The bastards could have cameras attached to them.
After none were found, I took a peek in the bathtub. It was clean. I'd usually have to clean it, again, because I've been developing OCD lately, and fear of germs. Ugh, all the germs.
I shook at the thought.
In the end, I had to clean the bathtub. Not to anyone's surprise. It took me about half an hour, and yet, it still didn't feel clean enough. Damn it, OCD.
I sighed and took off my clothes. I felt like just staring at the mirror for a while, at myself.
I always do this. It's a routine, and only normal for me to be disgusted by my body. How past me lived without a self hate for himself, was beyond me.
Just look at this.
I'm as white as a ghost. Like some dead guy. I haven't slept in days. No, weeks! I've been starving myself, because every time I'd eat something it'd just go right back up. I'm getting sick of all the food. Nothing appeals to me. I want to puke at the thought of chocolate. Who does that?!
I need help. Seriously.
I'm just waiting for the day I finally pass out, hit my head on a rock, and die already. Though, I wish it was that easy. I've hadn't had any luck these past few months, if you haven't noticed.
Like I said. Daily routine.
I sighed and just took a shower. I tried scrubbing at my skin, as much as possible. Yes, bleed you fucking piece of shit. Ugh. Just as I was about to wash the soap away, something made my fucking heart jump in my throat.
What the actual fuck.
Something just stood in your bathroom. In front of me. The fuck is this. I'm not that insane to imagine this. Right? It was just... staring at me. It was black, wrapped in bandages, although the few parts ofnskinthat showed, we're pretty sickeningly pale, purple on some places. It had blood covering it's whole body. It's feet were bare, bruised, and turning purple from the cold. His hands were the same. The skin was torn, and burned. The flesh on it's fingertips was literally torn off. It's fingernails were black, too.
His face was covered with blood, dirt, and ash. Blood was just pouring out of his mouth and his wounds, unable to stop.
What was even more disturbing was that it was missing a tongue, as well. It was cut out, rather.
And how do I know this from such a distance? It was fucking choking me, had it's hands around my throat. That's motherfucking how. This close, I saw that he didn't even have eyes. They were completely gouged out. Just empty eye sockets, staring hollowly and soullessly at me.
After it came so close to me, everything around me became black, covered in dirt and blood. Everything was dirty. I was dirty.
I started wheezing without control. Not just because of the choking, but because of the thought of being covered by all the germs. I was shaking. All the dirt, it was contaminating me.
I couldn't get away from neither it's grip or the dirt. It kept squeezing more and more, not letting me go.
After realizing that this is the end, I closed my eyes and wished for it to end, soon.
However, death never came.
...Yay...
I opened my eyes, only to see everything back to normal. Well, ain't that great. Looking around, making sure nothing was with me, I got out of the bathtub as quick as possible went for the door.
Hell, It's gonna be over my insane mind, if I ever decide to go back there again.
I took my spare pair of clothes and ran out, entering yet another room.
In the living room, I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes, my hands have immediately went to my eyes. Not soon after did my tears start to fall.
Why me?
Everyone out there, is having a normal and peaceful life, but I'm just here and being tormented by God knows what. Is this, like, where all people's fears go? To me? So they can be happy? I'm talking to myself, God damn it.
Give me a fucking break.
Obviously, that is not allowed, because just then my alarm started to ring. My job. In half an hour.
I sighed and got up. I got ready, and left my apartment.
I currently work as a bartender, with a barely decent payment. It is a Wednesday, so I worked from three pm to twelve am. The closer it got to Saturdays, the longer I had to stay up for work. I usually worked from 8 pm to 5 am on Saturdays and Fridays. Yeah, great, I know.
I don't really mind that much, don't have a roommate to disturb. It's just that with my lack of sleep, I don't know how I'll manage it. And if I lose the job, I'll hardly find a new one.
A/N: Gotta go to sleep, I'm tired...
