OCD

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"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" I yell out, sweat pouring down my face as I melt away from the stress of the situation. There is my mother, my perfect, caring and understanding mother, lying on the floor semi-conscious after the nasty fall she just had. I turn her over to lay her on her back and I immediately notice the swelling. She must have hit her head on the floor when she face planted under the dining room table. The blood is overwhelming the white tile floor, flowing steadily from a large gash on the left side of her neck. She must have caught the corner of the glass tabletop.

"You know I always stack school books on those tiles over there! That was so stupid and clumsy, Mom!"

I can't stop looking at the gash in her neck. The swelling has spread across her forehead so it looks to be evenly distributed. But that gash, on the one side of her neck...it just isn't right. She knows I can't be put in situations like this, never been able to handle them well at all. I love my mother dearly and I can't just watch her bleed out of that gash. I have got to do something!

"Mom, listen to me, you have got to stay still! Do you understand? This may hurt a bit but you CANNOT move or it is just going to be worse. I'll be right back!"

I run to the kitchen, "2, 3, 2" and click the light switch 6 times. As I approach the knife stand, I make sure to rub the green wall counter-clockwise 24 times and clockwise 24 times before I lift every knife in the block until I settle on the one that feels the best, the paring knife. I skip two tiles left, 3 tiles forward and two tiles right until I am even with my mother. As I bend down over her, I make sure that I even up the blade opposite her neck from the existing gash.

"Mom, quit moving, you are going to mess up my line! Once it is perfectly symmetrical, I'll get you a towel and call the ambulance okay! Stay calm!"

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