human ↦ calum hood {au}

twenty-five: disorder

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:

| lynette’s pov |

The ringing of the phone seemed to be endless, and really, I was considering ending the call and just getting on with my life, but I’m stopped with someone picking it up.

“Hello?” My mom’s voice comes, and I’m feeling the tears building in the corners of my eyes.

It’s been years since I’ve spoken with her, and I don’t know, I miss her.

“Hey, mom. It’s me, Lyn,” I introduced myself, somehow, and there’s a sob coming from her side. It didn’t sound like her, but it was a familiar sound of someone.

My mom doesn’t answer, and I wondered if she had dropped the phone from surprise. It wasn’t unlikely of her to do that, but every second I’m waiting is a second wasted.

I didn’t want to drink the pills anymore, but before I stop it, I wanted to ask her why I really am drinking that. It might make me change my mind or I don’t know– I just needed to know why.

I can’t remember why exactly; I know I’m sick, but is it that serious that I have to drink this every day of my life? I just think that it has these side effects that can make me go insane, and at the same time, I don’t think I need it that much as to take it countless times. 

“Why do I drink the pills?” I finally asked her, losing the patience to wait for her to greet me.

Another silence happened, and I’m slowly getting irritated; this must be a side effect of that medicine.

“You… have a condition. You have to stop it from worsening,” she answered, and I can feel that she’s probably clutching the pillow of our sofa.

“What condition?” I pressed on, though I think I’m starting to recall what it is.

“OCD, Lyn,” mom told me, and she took a deep breath, calming herself. “But it’s going to be fine; you’re going to be fine if you just keep taking those.” 

It saddened me that she was right; it was that problem of mine. That was it. 

That’s the disorder that ruined my life and continues to do so.

“You’re somehow a perfectionist, which isn’t that bad, but I’m afraid yours has the potential to worsen. It can affect your relationships, and that’s what I’m scared of happening. You have to take these,” the doctor said, handing me this paper with her scribbles on it.

I felt like the whole world crashed down; I really am sick.

Maybe that’s why I wasn’t living with my parents anymore. It was because of this disorder. I don’t know if I did, but I think I stopped for a while, and it happened– what we all feared.

I became a monster.