Broken Circle

The Dream

So, Idk if this is too on the nose or whatever but I'm new to writing so go easy on me.

Hiccup.  Stop.  Hiccup.  Stop.  Hiccup-
"Hey, are you okay?"
Riggan gulps.  Fuck.
Riggan is thrown back into the endless void that is his sanity.  Click 123 click 123 click 123
Peter piper picked a pack of pickled peppers.  Peppers.  16 pickled peppers.  16 pickled peppers.  123 click. 16 pickled peppers.  He's here. 123 click.  STOP. 16 pickled peppers 16 pickled peppers. Click clack 123 click 123 click. Fuck her, kill him.
The vortex swirled around him, engulfing him until he could no longer breath, filled with visions of gruesome murder and unwarranted sexual acts. STOP STOP STOP.
123 click 123 click 16 pickled peppers 16 pickled peppers.
A hand reached out through the nothingness and grabbed his shoulder.
Jolting back to reality, riggan realized he had been frozen in place, blinking uncontrollably.
"Are you, like, autistic or something?"
Riggan coughed twice and then bolted to the door.  He stopped and turned the handle both ways then pulling on the door before pushing it out and lightly placing it back in its place.  His mind flayed at the concept of acting normal. As he fled, a low bass started to build up as if it was a backing track to some sort of movie.  He cleared his throat.  Thrice.  The bass lowered for a bit before ultimately rising again each time.  He continued clearing his throat, but more periodically.  He got to the next door and repeated the same ritual as he had before, turning it both ways and then pulling and pushing.  As the door opened, it revealed a deep void of blackness filled with the sounds of clicking and clacking and hiccuping and coughing.  Riggan looked straight into the void with a helpless look of terror on his face.
"Alright.  I give up.  Take control."
Riggan took a step forward, and plummeted into the darkness.

Riggan awoke, looked around, pushed the sides of his blanket under him, and then took them back out and crawled out of his bed.  As he rose, he realized that his left half felt slightly.... colder.  Hiccuping, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his left arm.  He looked over at his Spider-Man pop figure, walked over, and aligned it perfectly with the corner of his dresser.  Then he aligned nebula perfectly with Spider-Man.  Nebula fell over, pushing Spider-Man out of parallel.  Time warped and lapsed, as he meticulously placed every single figure in exactly the right spot, starting over from the beginning every time something went wrong.  He eventually achieved perfection and got up to leave his room.  As he left his room, he repeated his previous ritual with the door, and approached the stairs.  Peering down the long, perilous descent, he heard a voice call out to him.
"Jump you fucking Pussy."
"I can't"
"Do it or everyone you love will die"
"No. It's not happening"
"You know you want to"
"I can't jump"
"Fine, I'll give you a nudge"
Riggan tripped down a few stairs before grabbing on to the rail.
"Shut.  The fuck. Up."
Riggan made his way over to the kitchen.
"I'm you" the voice said.
"I don't care.  Fuck off."
"You know there's only one way to get rid of me.  But that didn't work out very well last time, did it?" The voice retorted.  "We almost ended up at that stupid mental hospital.  Good thing you're a damn good liar though, eh?"
Riggan glanced at the knife rack.
"Look, my name may be riggan, but I'm not the fucking Birdman. I don't heed by your rules."
"Fat fucking chance.  I'm in control and we both know it."
Riggan hiccuped and grabbed a box of cereal and a bowl.
"CAN I JUST MAKE SOME GODAMN CEREAL IN PEACE?!" He screamed.
Shit.  I just woke everyone up.  Great going, Riggan.
Riggan sat down in his seat.
"Fuck."

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Note: not all OCD is the same, some cases are more severe or less severe or even completely different.  This is just the kind of stuff that I have