Obsessive, Compulsive.

EIGHT.

A deathly thin hand appeared in the small square of glass at the top of my door. It dragged its fingers along the glass before another skinny hand joined it. On the tiny wrist of one hand, amongst the scars, lay a tattered purple string bracelet. The sound of its stubby, chipped nails against my glass made me sit up and scramble backwards into a corner.

I held my pillow over my chest, hugging it tightly. Keep counting to four, I told myself. Keep counting to four and everything will be alright.

The hands pulled down, the blood draining from the already translucent skin. A face appeared, just as skeletal as the fingers. Thin brown hair hung sadly by the side of the figure, the strands looking sparse. Although the rest of the face appeared on death's door, the eyes were bright and shining green against the whiteish-blue veined skin. They lit up in a smile.

Everything disappeared from the window and I could hear the crack of something in the lock of the door. I shrank back, apprehensive.

The blue door creaked open, two corpse-like hands creeping round the wood and pushing it open. A girl stood there wearing green tracksuit bottoms and a white hoodie, both of which fell loosely around her excruciatingly tiny body. Her toes poked out from under the trousers, the weak nails painted with chipped red.

She waved, smiling. "Hello. Top tip, the locks on the bedroom doors are easy to pick with a bobby pin."

"Hi." I was immediately nervous.

"You're the one that lost Robert. Thanks for that." She grinned. "All the staff are out looking for him so we don't have schooling today."

I stayed quiet.

"When they told me that another girl my age was coming in I was really happy. I need a partner in crime, all the other girls here are younger than us and all the boys are weirdos." She walked over carefully and sat down next to me, her body so light that the floorboards didn't even creak.

"I won't be here long." I told her. "Only a couple of days."

"Okay dokey." She bit her lip, frowning for a second before smiling again. "My name's Antonia. You're Bella. I know that already, you don't have to tell me. Cara was telling me about you earlier."

"What did she say?" What did people think of me? Were they making fun of me behind my back like everyone at school did?

"She told me that you're quiet, sweet and clueless. Like everyone that comes in here at first, really. You'll fit in just fine."  Antonia turned round and leaned her back on the wall next to me.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Only a month. A month in here feels like a year, though." She sighed. "You'll feel like that after a while too."

There was a silence, and I couldn't stop myself looking at her. She was so skinny. It looked horrible... How was she still alive? She coughed, sounding almost like a frail old woman. Somewhere under this horrible facade was a beautiful girl. She would have been so pretty if she wasn't like this.

"What are you in here for?" She asked me, twirling her limp hair around her finger.

"OCD." I forced the awful word out of my mouth, almost spitting at it.

"Ah, OCD!" Antonia smiled and nodded at me. "You should come and meet Eve later. She's always cleaning her bedroom, so you know where to find her. Are you a cleaner or a counter?"

It amazed me how normal mental illness was to these people. Hesitating slightly, I spoke up. "I count things."

"Ah, what's your number?" She asked.

"Four." I said softly, tapping my fingers against the floor four times each. Antonia noticed and smiled at me.

"What's your bad number? Just so that I know to avoid it." She said, genuinely wanting to help.

"I..." I couldn't say it.

"Show me on your fingers." She nodded encouragingly. I quickly held up six fingers before taking a deep breath and tapping everything around me four times.

Antonia's eye twinkled slightly. "I'll remember that. Don't worry. Are there any colours that set you off?"

"Not really." I shrugged.

"Ah, cool. Don't have to worry about painting my nails then." She said, looking at her hands. "I need to paint them again. Would you like me to paint yours? I could give you a makeover."

Something in my heart leapt a little bit. "I've never had a makeover before."

"Tomorrow, then." Antonia stood up and went to the door. "Come on, Bella. Let's meet everyone else."

I hesitated, looking at the floor.

"You are allowed to leave your room, you know?" She said kindly. "It's not that much of a prison."

What if everyone thought I was weird? "How many people are here...?"

"It doesn't matter." Antonia extended a hand and pulled me up, still holding my hand. "I'll be here. They won't mess with you as long as you're with me. I won't let them. That's a promise."