The Academy: OCD Style

The Beast

(1st paragraph by LeaBug101, however I changed and added a few things. The rest is mine)

When the beast took over I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. I jumped out of the pool my hands itched to grab everything and put it in order. I grabbed the towel that laid on the cold hard ground I neatly folded it and made sure there were no wrinkles. The next thing I know I looked at everything on the ground organized and all the guys shoes were aligned with their clothes. Everyone was staring at me. My chest was burning, as if I'd ran a marathon. Then I realized what I had done. 

"I'm sorry" I breathed. 

The boys must've thought I was a freak. I didn't want to stay around and wait for their disgusted glares, so I ran. I bolted around the pool and through Nathans house, hearing the boys trail behind me. I fought the urge to look back. Their footsteps were gaining on me, I was half their size, It's not like I didn't see this coming. I felt relief seeing my home just a few steps away from me. Good thing Nathan lived so close. 

Slamming my bedroom door, I could finally breathe. However, my escape turned into yet another prison as reality hit me. 

I was home and I entered obnoxiously. Mother was going to be furious.

My spine shivered as her icy words called, "Sang, was that you slut?"

Before I had time to think my body was already hidden by the darkness of my bed frame. I sucked in a breath. I was hiding. The creaking from the floors echoed in my ears, warning me that my mother was near. It was a crooked game of hide and seek. I wanted so badly to conceal myself far from everyone. No one could hurt me or judge me. I'd have myself, same as always. I could live in peace without the world's pressures and my mother's abuse. I gasped for air, revealing my location. 

"No, please!" I cried as but I was never convincing.  I had tried for years to open her eyes, to free her from the anger that consumes her sight. But it was me. It was all my fault. I'm so problematic, why wouldn't she hate me? My back stung as it dragged across the floor. 

"Have you 'fixed' your little scratches?" it was not a question. She knew. Her razor already in hand, my shirt already up, I was right where she wanted me. She slashed at my rib-cage. I whimpered and a bright smile crept onto her face, she was amused. I knew when mother was having a bad day. I would be the one to feel it. This was a horrendous day. It's the first time she had marked me more than once. She didn't stop. For a second, I didn't think she even could if she wanted to. I could see her addiction to my own pain as much as she was addicted to other things. When my mother was done with my stomach, she moved to my thighs. This was new. Instead of slow and shallow, she was brisk and deep. I gave up fighting a while ago. Pain is only temporary, but it's also inevitable. 

By the time mother was done with me, my bedroom floor looked like a murder scene. She didn't even have to yell at me to clean the mess I made. I was so stupid. Why did I have to bleed everywhere? I'm the problem. I'm so stupid. Stupid. I had to repeat the word. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Cleaning was a mess. I would end up scrubbing the crimson liquid off the floor, only to replace it with more of it. I was swimming in my own blood. I felt so dirty. I needed to shower. 

Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower. Shower.  

The wounds burnt as the hot water washed over me. My eyes wandered, analyzing the 'artwork' my mother carved into my skin. "FAILURE" Was written up my thigh, on an angle. I would have to fix that. I hate myself so much. Why couldn't I just let things be? The monster was torturing me and I wanted to scream at myself to shut up. After all, the monster was me.