Chapter 3!! Yay!! enjoy, guys! I'm really enjoying writing this fic, and I'm working on some chapter ideas and plots. keep in mind that since its christmas break, i may not be able to update quite as often but i WILL try to. (need some more background info first/ gonna take a little break to party with the family :] )

I'm happy with where this is going, are you? ~ Please Review!! no corny rhyme intended. :P

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That was it. Emma's heart shattered into a million pieces.

"I have to. I...don't know why. I just have to wash my hands. All the time. Even when I have my gloves on, I still have to do it. And--and I have to do it a certain way. If I don't, I have to do it again until I get it right. Sometimes it takes a long time, and it really hurts...but I have to. I can't help it." Chelsea couldn t hold back anymore, or maybe she just didn't want to. Either way, tears streaked her face as she wiped them away with chapped fingers.

"I can't help it."

Those words replayed themselves over and over in the guidance counselor's mind. Never before had she ever been so affected by a student's issue, never to the extent of wanting to sob. This was different, and it was more than just a counseling session.

It wasn't just the deep compassion she felt as she sensed Chelsea's pain and realized how much torture she must have put herself through for God knows how long. That's not what made Emma's heart break. It was the epiphany that followed.

Sure their methods were different. One was washing hands, and the other was constant disinfection. And sure, one was more extreme than the other, as it caused actual physical harm. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that in Chelsea, Emma saw herself. In their differences lay an essential similarity.

Chelsea was just like her.

The girl gradually started to roll up the sleeves of her green thermal up to her elbows, showing just how far the extent of her injuries went and explaining the long-sleeved shirt.

"I'm sorry," she said. She started to cry a bit harder, still attempting to keep herself from totally breaking down.

"Chelsea, there is absolutely nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. Not one bit of this is your fault. Do you understand me, sweetheart?" Emma wanted to be of as much comfort as possible to Chelsea, and she wanted her to know that she would always be there for her, but she came to another realization. There was something she had to do first. She couldn't give advice that she wouldn't take herself.

Chelsea looked up at her with such a sorrow-stricken expression and nodded to show she understood.

This time, it was Emma s turn to close her eyes and take a deep breath before she spoke.

"I have a story I'd like to tell you. Would you like to hear it?"

There you go!! maybe you all can sense where this is going...

U like?? Let me know! :)