Obsessive

Submitted into Contest #149 in response to: Start your story with the flickering of a light.... view prompt

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Drama Romance

This story contains themes or mentions of mental health issues.

“God, I hate that flickering light.”

“So, why don’t you just call the landlord about the wiring issue, Bessie?”

“Come on, Cooke. Doesn’t he freak you out? He definitely freaks me out.”

When I showed up to tour the apartment building I am now living in, I waited in my car until the landlord arrived. I must have been wearing my impatient face because next thing I knew, a guy appeared right in my window, staring into my soul. I took a chance and opened it, rolling it down only a bit.

“Are you Betsy?” He asked me.

“Bessie, actually.” I replied as I closed the window and locked up my car, double checking that it was secure.

I followed him up the walkway and into the building, keeping my distance. Something just seemed off about him, but I was still hopeful about the apartment. As he opened the door for me, the first thing I noticed was that it looked affordable. The paint on the walls was chipping a bit and I could hear the faint sound of water dripping somewhere. I walked around, checking out the place. Normally, when looking at a potential apartment, the landlord will wait for you by the front door, allowing you to explore on your own, but not Mr. Grizzly. Mr. Grizzly followed me every step I took. The thing is, it’s a studio apartment. We would’ve been able to see each other from any spot in the room. 

Finally, I had enough of looking around and decided I would take it. I was desperate, as the building I had been living in was sold and I needed a new place to go. Mr. Grizzly had gotten good reviews online, so maybe the creepiness was all in my head. I did decide though that if there was a problem, I would do my best to fix it myself first. 

“I don’t understand why he creeps you out. He seems like a normal dude to me.”

“Whatever. Can you fix my light? That would solve both our problems - I wouldn’t have to see Mr. Grizzly and you won’t have to hear me complain anymore.”

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Cooke.”

Cooke and I met the day I moved in. My dad and I were struggling to carry my mattress inside and Cooke happened to be arriving home at the time. He introduced himself and said he lived in the apartment above mine, then offered to help us get the mattress through the door. Normally, I’m wary of strangers, but my dad seemed to be losing steam quickly, so I decided to let Cooke help us. 

Over time, he and I became friends. We were both lonely and in our early twenties, into quirky hobbies like foraging and embroidery. Since we began hanging out, I’ve developed a massive crush on him. I’m afraid to make a move because if he doesn’t feel the same, we will still be stuck living in close proximity to one another. So, for now I just silently pine after him until the feelings become too strong to hold back anymore. I fear that day may be coming rather soon. 

“So, Bessie? Do you want to grab dinner? I could totally go for a burger.”

“I can eat.” I said, already standing to put on my shoes. 

“Great. I’ll meet you out at my car in a few.” 

Sitting in the restaurant, one of those build your own burger places that serves spiked milkshakes and has an electronic jukebox, I realized one thing: I was having major anxiety. This was the first time we actually went out to do something. We always just hung out at my apartment. As the server came to take our drink orders, I decided I needed some alcohol to help loosen me up.

“One mojito please.” I requested.

“I’ll take a beer, whatever’s cheapest please… and this will all be on one check.” Cooke added.

Before I could say anything, the waitress was gone. She was a petite blonde with a low cut shirt who was clearly working for tips. I noted how she stared intensely at Cooke as he ordered and barely looked at me when I did, although from the looks of it, we were on a date. At least that’s how it probably seemed to those who didn’t know us.

“You didn’t have to cover the bill.”

“Who says I’m paying?” He laughed. “Just kidding, of course I’m paying. My job pays a lot better than yours.”

“I’m supposed to be getting a raise any time now.”

“You always say that, Bessie.”

We sat and talked some more until our food arrived. Our waitress put an enormous hamburger in front of Cooke while I had a much more modest salad without dressing.

“Who goes to a burger place and orders a salad?”

“Someone who is trying to lose weight.”

“Why are you doing that? You’re perfect just the way you are.”

I felt myself blush, knowing my face was bright red, and not just because I was on my third drink. I couldn’t help but smile and took a bite of my salad, trying to distract myself. 

While I ate, I looked up at the front door, as I often do when I am out. You never know who might walk in. Sure enough, it was Mr. Grizzly. I quickly looked down and seeing this, Cooke immediately turned toward the door and back, chuckling.  

“Don’t laugh. He’ll hear you.” I said.

“You need to relax. Have another drink.” Cooke told me, pushing my mojito toward me.

I took a sip, watching as Mr. Grizzly was sat at a table all by himself. For a moment, I felt bad being creeped out by him. He was probably just a lonely guy who was socially awkward. I watched as he meticulously set his table. He spread out napkins as a tablecloth then carefully unwrapped the silverware and put each utensil down precisely. He sat up completely straight in his chair, folding his hands in front of him as he waited for a server. A teenage boy came over and placed an iced tea on the table, putting down another napkin underneath it to catch the condensation. Mr. Grizzly must be a regular, I thought to myself as a burger was placed on the table with yet another napkin underneath the plate. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a pair of disposable gloves and put them on before picking up his burger. He wrapped part of the burger in a napkin and finally took a bite. 

“You’re staring.” Cooke relayed, bringing my focus back to him.

“He didn’t notice.”

“Well, I did. I’ve been trying to get your attention for at least a minute. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on the man.” He started laughing to the point of tears.

“That’s not true!”

“God, I’m only teasing. Why are you always so wound up?”

“I’m not always, just when I’m around you.”

I felt something change. I didn’t know this would be the night where I came clean about my feelings, but here I was, drunk and spilling my secrets.

“Why’s that, Bessie?” He was staring at me expectantly.

“Because, I’m in love with you.” I could feel my heart beating in my ears as I awaited a response. Seconds felt like hours. I wanted to run, but my legs felt like jelly.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” He smiled at me like I had never seen anyone smile before.

“You have? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, I have a small confession.”

“Oh, no. What is it?”

“Mr. Grizzly is my father.”

“What? Why didn’t you go say hi to him?”

“He’s not exactly happy with me at the moment… or any moment really.”

“Oh, why’s that?”

“I’m just not the son he wanted.”

“What kind of son did he want?”

“None.”

“I’m sorry to hear that and for always being so freaked out by him. I’m sure he’s a fine guy.”

“Well, he pays for my apartment, so that’s nice… Why don’t we get out of here?”

As we drove home, so many questions were on my mind. What was with the napkin obsession and following me around? I decided to ask Cooke for answers.

“He grew up on a farm. His older brother used to bully him pretty badly, pushed him in cow shit and other horrible stuff like that. He developed pretty severe obsessive compulsive disorder after that. The one and only time he and my mom had sex, he insisted on wearing two condoms for extra protection, which ended up backfiring majorly because nine months later, I arrived. He never wanted to be a father, he knew he couldn’t handle the pressure. So, he does the minimum for me and nothing more than that.”

“And, what about following me around?”

“That’s a much simpler answer. Someone broke into his house a few days before he gave you the tour and he was making sure you wouldn’t steal anything.”

“Wow. I feel like such a jerk.”

“I understand why you felt that way. I can see how his actions could come off as creepy.”

He slowed to a stop before he turned onto our street, looking both ways twice. There was nobody around. He flicked the turn signal on and slowly eased down the road, pulling into the parking lot. I got out of the car and watched as he took some clorox wipes out of the glove compartment and wiped down my seat, then his own.

“You can never be too careful when it comes to germs.” He told me as I watched him.

“Can I see your apartment? I don’t want there to be any more secrets if we’re going to date.” I asked him, feeling bold.

He hesitated, but eventually said I could.

Arriving at his door, he moved particularly slowly to put the key in and unlock it. When he finally did open it, the place was spotless. Every single thing was in order and I knew immediately that Mr. Grizzly was not the only one in the family who had OCD. 

Cooke stepped inside, placing his key on a shiny plate on a shiny table by the front door. He slipped his shoes off and began to walk in. I followed, only to be immediately stopped and asked to take off my shoes as well. I obliged and started to feel a bit queasy. I started to run for the bathroom in the far corner, but slid on the waxed floor and hit my head on a shelf, breaking something that was on it and then puking on myself and everything around me. 

“What have you done? The smell is never going to go away!” 

He quickly opened every window in the apartment and got cleaning supplies out of a basket under the kitchen sink. I just sat there in my puddle, feeling sick and embarrassed. 

“You need to leave.” He said to me.

“I’m sorry, Cooke.”

“Just go.”

How can something seem so good in your head and be so bad in reality? I tried to call him after that for a few days and eventually knocked on his door a week later for it to just swing open and for nothing to be there. He vanished without saying goodbye. I guess that’s what ghosts do. One moment they’re there, the next they’re gone. If you believe in them hard enough, they’ll show you who they are. You’ll get to feel their presence. But, if you wait too long, they’ll disappear before you ever get to know them at all.

June 06, 2022 01:43

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