Per request
"I love you" 1,2,3 words.
Josh didn't say them nearly often enough.
He feels he should have said it more, especially considering how Tyler felt about multiples of three.
Now, he sits at the side of a hospital bed, eyeing the bandages wrapped around Tyler's forearms seemingly tighter than a noose and gripping the hand of the sleeping boy gently.
The heart monitor seems to keep track of time and provides a noise to break the deafening silence. Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.
The days drag on slowly, there's an air of death in the white room.
Josh remembers Tyler's habits and as if out of respect or mourning finds himself steeping over the divide between doorways and repeating other such habits.
After 1,2,3 heart wrenching days of nothing, the sleeping boy stirs, registering a blinding light and unfamiliar room.
The first thing Josh says is 1,2,3 words.
"I love you."
As he didn't say them nearly as often enough.
That was bad but you asked for it.
YOU ARE READING
1,2,3 OCD (Joshler)
Hayran KurguIt's hard to explain. Sometimes it's multiples of three. If you touch with one hand you have to touch with the other. Don't step on the cracks in the pavement. Fit things together like your life is Tetris. Measure the inches around your stomach and...
