One, two, three, four,

She counted as she slowly walked down the long hallway. The bright white walls seemed to scream at her as she watched her shadow pace itself with her. The building was cold, and she had a slight case of goose bumps. The floor tiles had a checkered pattern of green and white. She made it very clear that she was only able to step on the green ones, as not to be consumed by the white.

Five, six, seven, eight,

She turned the corner and a plainly sanitized odor over took her. She coughed slightly allowing the burning in her nose to subside before she moved forward. The green tiles had disappeared now, but have been replaced by long green stripes. She walked in a straight line through the small waiting room and into her designated room. As she reached for the door knob, she patted the door three times. And slid her hand down the side of the door with her opposite hand.

Nine, ten, eleven, twelve,

She reached a tall padded table and pushed herself onto it with her hands. A frail woman entered the room and looked at her through large spectacles. “Ms. Marscoll will be in shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable.” She quickly left just as she came. The girl leaned back, resting her head upon the wall. Softly hitting her head against it as she began to count. Picking up where she left off with her steps.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen,

Her hits became harder as time went on. But she was soon stopped as Ms. Marscoll entered the room and snapped in her face. Ms. Marscoll wasn’t very old, probably early thirties, and she had a slender figure. She stood in a lab coat with a dress suit underneath. She sat on a stool and looked up at the girl. She didn’t say anything, just stared. The girl knew the drill.

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty,

She closed her eyes as Ms. Marscoll finally began to speak. Her words seemed to mumble into one sentence. It was always the same. “What’s new in your life?” , “Have you been taking your medication regularly?” , “Is there anything you wish to talk about?” But there wasn’t. Nothing had changed. She was still on her medical cocktail that was prescribed to her, and even still it didn’t work. She still counted, and ritualized everything she did. She tried not too, she tried to resist the impulses, only to fail horribly.

Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four,

The session is over. Walking down the same white halls that she has almost every week. Staring at her feet as they move across the green tiles. Counting in her head as she breathes. Her breathes are short and fast, the smell of iodine still hanging in the air. She reaches the elevator and presses the button three times, just like always. She stands there, watching the numbers light up as the elevator comes to her floor. She steps in, and presses the ground floor, again three times.

Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight,

She walks out of the building, taking in long breathes as she refills her lungs with fresh air. Staring up at the room she was just in, she smiles slightly. She doesn’t know why exactly, she just does. She steps forward, counting again. Finally reaching her car. She gets in, and opens up the glove compartment. Pulling out a small bottle of pills she takes one out. Holding it in her hand, she opens a bottle of water, and stares at the clock. The moment it strikes three she takes a swig of water, and places the pill in her mouth, swallowing hard. She puts the pill bottle back and closes the compartment. She puts her keys in ignition and slowly drives out of her parking spot. Still counting in her head.