OCD

Helen placed the key in the key hole and was about to turn it when she removed it again. She pushed it back inside and then removed it, counting in her head. Two, three, four, five. She inhaled deeply and then placed the key back into the key whole, eight, and repeated the action, nine, ten. She paused when the key was back inside, closed her eyes and then turned the key to lock the door. She unlocked the door again, turned the key back and forth. Four, five, six. She opened her eyes and focused on the key, turning it, locking, unlocking the door. Seven, eight, nine. If she didn’t do it correctly now, she would need to repeat the action. She turned it, ten, and quickly removed the key.

Today, ten was her magical number. Helen placed her backpack over her chest and turned towards the stairs. She gripped the key in her right hand and then opened the zipper of the front pocket. She closed it again, opened it, closed it, moving the zipper back and forth, five, six, seven, eight. The zipper made an interesting sound when it was moved, it didn’t bother Helen though. Worse was figuring out when to stop. She counted how often she opened the zipper. Nine, ten, eleven. Ten wasn’t good this time.

She stepped down one step but quickly removed her foot and went back up. One. She couldn’t count two things at once and focused back on the zipper. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. She paused, focusing on her thoughts and trying to shake off the dull feeling. Twenty one, twenty two. The zipper moved tirelessly back and forth while her fingers gripped the zipper tightly. Thirty three. She placed the key inside and attached it to the loop, removed it, attached it, removed it, attached it. Eight, nine, ten. Finally, she attached it and closed the zipper forcing herself not to count.

Now the backpack needed to go back on her back – she removed it from her chest, slid it over the side towards her back and reached with her arm through the strap, pulled it back, put it through again. Three, four, five. Placing her backpack onto her back was easier, however, it still took her several attempts. Eight, nine, ten

Finally, she was able to walk down the stairs, the first one was the worst. Helen looked down and lifted her right foot, moving it forward and back, sliding over the edge of the step and down, back up and down. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. When her foot landed on the first step, she quickly let her left foot follow suit and moved it towards the second step. Twenty two, twenty three. It was hard this morning and Helen checked the time on her watch. She was still early and had enough time to spare.

Ascending the rest of the steps of the first staircase was relatively easy until she reached the last one. Ninety two, ninety three, ninety four. Helen held her foot in mid-air and paused. Ninety seven, ninety eight, ninety nine. She knew she only had this one chance and then she would need to start over. She closed her eyes and jumped to the floor, one hundred, and walked toward the next staircase to ascend further down her house.

The door of her downstairs neighbor opened and Mr. Willis left his apartment. “Good morning!” He said when he saw Helen.

“Good morning.” Helen smiled and quickly walked to the staircase, walking down the stairs. One, two, three, four. She counted the steps in her head and walked down one at a time. Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty one. It bothered her that some of the staircases had twenty one and some had twenty two steps. Who would build a house that was this disheveled?

Mr. Willis walked passed Helen and almost ran down two steps at a time. He was obviously late for work, unlike Helen who had plenty of time left to get to the bus.

“Have a great day!” He shouted while he reached the end of the stairs and passed the corner.

“You too!” Helen quickly called after him.

Mr. Willis was out of side and then the entrance door opened and closed. Helen reached the last staircase she needed to take to reach the same entrance door. She paused and looked at the first step. It was dirty and a big splash of coffee had dried up on there. No one seemed to bother to clean it, yet it had bothered Helen the last few days. She would clean it herself, but reaching this particular step with a mob would take her forever. But now when she stood here and looked at it, it took her forever to decide where to step and how to get down.

Forty two, forty three, forty four. Helen inhaled and exhaled, placing her right foot to the right side of the coffee stain, careful to not touch it but also as far away as possible from the railing. She couldn’t touch that one either. Fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine. Now her left foot needed to fly over the coffee stain without actually being on top of it but also not being to the left side of it, since then the coffee stain would be right beneath her and would negatively affect her hips. Helen did her best aerobatics to let her left foot fly over the coffee stain on the right side, not too close to her right foot, not too close to the coffee stain and then descended it onto the second step.

Sixty three, sixty four, sixty five. These steps have been the hardest for a few days and Helen prayed that someone would finally clean it. She lifted her right foot and let it slide over the edge of the second step and moved it back and forth toward the third step. Seventy five, seventy six, seventy seven.

Helen was checking her watch and she was still good in time. Before she reached the last step, she saw a tissue someone must have lost and abandoned it on the staircase. It was crumpled up and mocking her for the trouble it would cause her. Helen stopped right before she reached the step. She observed how the tissue was nestled between the railing and the floor of the step, making it impossible for her to pass it on the right side, the way she had done it with the coffee stain. Was it okay to pass this on the left or would she need to walk back up, pass the coffee stain on the left and then pass the tissue on the left? She considered her options and knew she wouldn’t be able to pass the coffee stain on the left. It was a difficult morning and Helen stared at the tissue, willing it to disappear and letting her move on with her life. It did no such thing.

Two hundred two, two hundred three, two hundred four. There was only one way to pass it and it must be on the left side. Helen lifted her foot, moving more to the left and then placing her weight onto her other side. She slipped her foot down, slowly, carefully, over the edge of the step, closer toward the bottom, millimeter by painful millimeter. Two hundred twelve, two hundred thirteen, two hundred fourteen.

Her foot reached the step and now her second foot needed to follow, move downwards too and then make it onto the ground floor. Two hundred twenty six, two hundred twenty seven, two hundred…

Before Helen knew what was happening, she lost her balance, reached for the wall to hold onto it to not fall or step on the tissue. Her shoulder hurt after the impact of someone running into her.

“Sorry! Are you okay?” Mr. Willis stood next to her, held the railing with his left hand, touched Helen’s shoulder with his right hand, his black shoe was standing right on top of the tissue, he was breathing into Helen’s face.

Helen stared at him and blinked several times. How had she not heard him come back? She was usually very aware of her surroundings, listening to know if someone was nearby, checking to see who she needed to walk around and not get too close. Now Mr. Willis was very close.

“Yes, yes. I am so sorry, I didn’t see you.” Helen quickly said when she realized that she had been quiet for too long. Had he seen what she was doing?

Mr. Willis started walking and passed her. “I forgot my wallet, I am already late, so I need to rush. Sorry again!” He ran up the stairs and left Helen alone.

Helen swallowed and looked at her shoulder where Mr. Willis’ hand was still burning through the fabric of her clothes. Helen squeezed her eyes tightly together. Three hundred thirty four, three hundred thirty five, three hundred thirty six, three hundred thirty seven. She opened her eyes and looked at the tissue. It had a different shape now and was turning brown. She was standing right on the same step as the tissue and felt its presence invade her space. Helen jumped back up one step and stood there, looking at the tissue. Three hundred fifty two, three hundred fifty three, three hundred fifty four.

Before Helen knew how to continue, Mr. Willis was back, waving his wallet in front of him. “I’ve got it.” Helen squeezed herself close to the wall, careful not to touch it so that Mr. Willis could pass her and leave. “You’re still here. Nowhere to go?” He smiled and winked at Helen, running toward the entrance door and then he was out faster than Helen would ever be able to do.

Now Helen needed to go down two more steps, one mocking her with a dirty tissue. Four hundred forty four, four hundred forty five, four hundred forty six.

Helen inhaled deeply, lifted her foot again, slipped it passed the tissue and stepped down two steps at a time. She couldn’t touch the stair with the tissue again. It would hurt and the pest would be able to creep up her leg. Her shoulder still burned from Mr. Willis illicit touch.

Standing at the end of the staircase on the first floor, Helen finally saw the entrance door. She only needed to reach it, open it, and walk through. Four hundred ninety two, four hundred ninety three, four hundred ninety four.

Checking the time on her watch, Helen’s eyes widened in disbelieve. How had so much time passed? If she didn’t rush now, she would be late for the bus. She always left her house with plenty of time to spare in case she walked into trouble on her way to work. Never had she wasted that much time in her hallway. All her additional minutes for her walk towards the bus stop were already gone and she would need to walk without stopping, counting, or recalibrating what she was doing. If enough people were around her, she would be able to manage. If she was alone when she left her house, she might be late after all. Missing the bus would mean being late for work.

For the first time, Helen prayed that a lot of people would join her in the outside world and she quickly walked towards the door, opened it, walked through it and let out a grateful thanks when she saw two people pass in front of her and another person waiting at the bus stop. The bus was already pulling up to the curb and Helen needed to run. Not counting her steps, she could make it on time after all. Never had she walked over these cobblestones without ignoring their joints or without counting them. It did hurt her to do so now, but running and only touching the stones and not the joints was an impossible task. Waving at the bus, she had to be quick and thanks to the other person who held the door open for her, she managed to jump on and get to work on time. Tomorrow she would need to leave her apartment earlier still.