Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25561579-20141024122847

As the sun lowered itself to the horizon darkness started to take over the sky like a battle of good against evil. Darkness had won this forever ongoing battle.

As Devin went inside for the night his stomach grumbled. He knew it was time for him to eat but like normal there was nothing to eat. He was forced to get his keys and drive into town to pick up a pizza, as usual. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it had because it was all part of a ritual to him. Wake up, clean up, clean up, clean up, eat up, work up, come home, sit on the porch, eat something after the sun goes down. Nothing changed in his life. It was all numbers and times to him.

He grabbed his keys, slipped his shoes back on and shut the door behind him. He was getting tired of driving this stupid route every night. The whole town was just full of close-minded people. House after house passed until he reached the rundown train overpass. After that it was all downtown from there. Cafes, a bakery, a few restaurants, and of course his routine pizza place. All he wanted was for a consistent based schedule and some damn food in his house. Devin cursed and moaned to himself in the car, although he knew he was the only one who was listening. Devin also wanted to start a family, but every girl he started to get close to his O.C.D. scared her away and he was alone once again.

No one really enjoyed Devi’s presence. He was always that kid in the corner in high school and grown up he’s now like the guy in the mousehole. No one ever seen him and if they did silence struck them. It was difficult to speak to Devin. It constantly murmured stuff and many thought he was being cocky. Even with this misconception being talked out, everyone thought he was weird.

Devin slowed down as he entered the city limits. He checked his speedometer to be sure he was only going 35, and of course, he was. He picked up his dinner, and took off for home once again. As he got to driving his O.C.D. started taking over. He started counted seconds and signs he passed on the way. Dammit, fuck. Devin, you know better, control yourself.

For months now he tried to break this nearly uncontrollable habit. He considered it an illness and it not only consumed, but destroyed his life. He tried to break old habits and most of the time when he zoned out they came right back. He couldn’t help it though. It was in his nature to make sure things were perfect. Well, perfect in his sense. Perfect to him was weird to others. That was the leading cause he wanted to change. He couldn’t live in his own skin without cleaning it every two hours or even less.

He got home, ate his dinner, washed his hands and got ready to go to bed. He went upstairs to his bedroom and turned the light on. He noticed something abnormal though. The blankets on his bed were moved slightly to his discomfort. It bothered him. To him, he had to have it a certain way to even get into bed. He fixed it, made sure it was exactly to his specifications and peeled them back to get in bed.

When he opened his eyes in the morning the television was on and he was laying on the remote. When he stood up he had the whole remote imprint on his ribs. He turned the TV off and headed downstairs to get ready for the day. He went into the bathroom and took a shower. As he got out he noticed that every counter in the bathroom was layered in dust. He was disgusted. He immediately got something to wear and started to clean it up. He cleaned it once, then twice, and finally a third time to be absolutely sure that it was spotless. He looked at the clock in the living room and it read 9:00am. Look what you did now Devin. Just can’t stop can you? He felt like it was a monster inside him that he could not rid of. He hated it. He hated everything. He hated society, he hated dirt, he hated, well everything and everyone.

Due to his hatred for everything, he never carried a consistent job. Things had to be his way and normally that got him fired. Although it was a more efficient way to do the task the supervisor would give him a few warnings, suddenly he wouldn’t stop, then he got fired. That was another reason he just wanted to changed his ways. He wanted a life outside of “One, two, three, four…” or cleaning himself or his house.

He did nothing all day. That was his way to stop the compulsive thoughts that basically controlled everything he did. He sat in silence with his curtains closed and lights off. He didn’t want to see anything. He knew as soon as he seen the outside world the thoughts would tell him to do something he didn’t want to do anymore. He stared at a black television screen. Even in all this darkness he wore sunglasses to ensure his vision was nothing. If he had the choice he’d be blind. He always hated when he told himself that because given the unfortunate fact that someone was blind they’d want to see again or for the first time. Sure, it was ungrateful and sure it was wrong, but if he could, he would.

Time became virtually nonexistent in the household. It was dark all the time and the only way to know the time was to look at the wall clock every so often and guess if it was A.M. or P.M. To be sure he’d peak outside and determine the actual time of day. When 8:30 rolled around in the morning he’d be sure to get up and go to work.

When Devin got home one particular night he accidentally switched the lights on. What he seen not only disgusted him, but confused him. Trash everywhere. It was dusty and so try if you lit a match the whole room would catch fire. Everything was non parallel to each other. The only thing that remained perfect was the chair that he had remembered the position of. Where there was once a TV, now only piles of dust bunnies. Everything was askew. He became frustrated so quickly he didn’t know how to react. First it was put everything back and “Clean, clean, clean.” Then it became apparent this would take days if not a week.

He walked in circles around the misplaced furniture and contemplated what his options. So many thoughts crossed his mind. He began counting his steps and amount of rotations he took. He made sure he blinked only 20 times in a minute. He calculated everything. Devin became distraught and started yelling at nothing. “I hate what I see God! Why do I see so much? Why must everything be so pathetic and vile in my point of view?”

He trudged up the stairs into the bathroom. He looked around, seemingly for nothing at first until he spotted the key. He opened the medicine cabinet and took three high strength pain pills. He grabbed his weapon of choice; a straight edge razor. He turned away from the mirror, held one eye open and sliced his eye. Strange liquids spewed out as he screamed out in the sheer agony of what he had just done. Nothing seemed right. He punched the wall, screamed, yelled, and cried. All he knew he was doing was counting the number of breathes he took. “One, two, three, four…” He gained the courage inside to begin the next eye. He fingers struggled to keep his eyelids open because he had broke his knuckles on the wall. “One, two, three, four…” Slice. The combined pain from his eyes and his knuckles and all the bullshit he seen made him scream. He laid on the bathroom tile as he had hoped neighbors had heard his torture and called someone. Finally he heard the sirens coming up to the house and counted one last time. “Four, three, two, one…” 