The Girl With OCD

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

     I rub my finger as I walk out the door, where I pulled a ring on and off many times. My middle finger is now raw and red, and is bleeding around the ring. I thought that if I put the ring on, that meant that I'd me married to Satan. I had ripped the ring off and then put it back on so much that the friction had scraped my skin. I had also tried to just leave it off, but the OCD wouldn't let me off that easy. It had said that placing it on my dresser, or anywhere else for that matter, would be the same as putting it on. Eventually I just shoved the ring on and tried to ignore both my bleeding, stinging hand and my head.

     Jesse looks up when he hears my feet crunching on the gravel, "Hey. Didn't think you were going to show up." He tugs at his long-sleeved shirt.

     I just shrug, "Why on earth are you wearing a long sleeved shirt? It's really warm today."

    He once again pulls the sleeves down, "No reason. I get cold easily, okay?"

     "All right, then," I hold my hands up, surrender-style.

     I look up, "So, why did you want to hang out? You don't think I'll accidentally kill you, too?" Recently there have been rumours that I actualyl murdered Cody.

      Thanks a lot, grapevine. That really helps with the OCD.

     He laughs, "You? Kill me? That would take some major talent. No, I know it was an accident. Some other people think otherwise, hey? Don't worry. People can be jerks. Trust me. I am one," He glances at me,  "Nah, I just thought you'd need a friend."

     "Since when have you cared?" I am confused with his actions, obviously.

     "Since when have you ever cared about what I did?" He glares at me.

     "Okay, okay, you win. Again."

     He lets out a breath, "Man, this being nice stuff is hard."

     I roll my eyes, "Tell me about it."

     I sit down on a swing and start pumping my legs. I love swings; I love the breeze. The fresh air rushing against my face, the exhilarating feeling of being high up, with only a few chains and a blue seat to protect you. And, when you jump off, there's that little feeling of fright, but then it disappears when you land. As a child, I loved jumping off and then running back to get higher than before.

     My light brown hair swishes against my face as I swing. My hair is long. It's also straight, except at the end, where it flips out, Nancy Drew-style. Jesse sits down next to me and starts swinging too. It's awkward to sit next to him, because I don't Jesse at all. I remember more of Cody's words, "He trusts you. Maybe he'll open up. Be nice. He's going through even more now."

     "Hey, Jesse..." I start, and then pause.

     He looks at me quizzically, "Yeah?"

     "How do you understand?"

     He glances at his sleeves, at the sky, the ground, and then finally at me, "My Dad and Mom died. My Dad overdosed, and then my Mom died of cancer. I was adopted six months ago." He rubs his eyes and shrugs his shoulders, "And, if you tell anyone, I will, quite literally, kill you. I'm telling you this to help you, but if you stab my back I will make your life horrible." His cuss amount is rising, so I can tell he's upset.

     I feel so bad for my judgments; I should have known better. He's gone through some of the same stuff I have. I feel like we can understand each other, and that I finally might have a friend.