Perfection | Teen Ink

Perfection

December 20, 2018
By HeyIsaacHere, Newton, Massachusetts
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HeyIsaacHere, Newton, Massachusetts
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Author's note:

  My name is Isaac , and I am currently in 8th grade.  I wrote this story because I could relate to it.  Al the emotions explained and the little quirks in the story are all related to myself and my life.  I deal with OCD everyday and I wanted to show how it can really affect someone mentally and physically.  

BEEP  BEEP, BEEP BEEP.  It’s 7:30 in the morning.  Time to get up, the golden yellow sun peeking through my curtains, conveniently pointed towards my face.  After regaining my consciousness, I yawn as I look at my room. As expected, everything is placed the way it should be.  My chair perfectly stationed in front of my desk, and the picture frames of myself aligned next to each other side by side on top of my dresser.  

Quickly, I get up, realizing that it’s time for school, moving my body to the right in order to start getting out of my bed.  As I turn, I notice that my lamp has a sticky note neatly attached on the frame of it saying Remember to make sure you know all the formulas that you crammed into your head, for example, y=mx+b.  Shuffling out of the warm blankets around me, I get up and open my drawer, the clothes all folded neatly in the correct order.  I pick out my luckiest attire to wear, an ironed out red polo shirt with nice brown khakis accompanying it.

You always have to wear this for a test.  

I go into the bathroom, the toothbrush perfectly ready for the next day, grabbing it to prepare for the usual clean.  

Front molars first, front teeth next, top of molars, top of front teeth, back of the mouth, back of tongue.

I spit the toothpaste out and wash it, making sure I don’t see any of its remnants left on the sink.  Looking in the mirror, I notice that my hair is everywhere and I have bags in my eyes from the day before, studying as always.  I quickly soak my hair and grab a towel to dry it until it’s damp. It’s 7:45 now, time to eat breakfast. Walking down the stairs, I look around my living room. The couches, surrounding the T.V, with the long table right next to it, in front of the stairwell, and the countertop lying right behind the couches.  Resting on the countertop is a cream cheese bagel once again with a sticky note that I didn’t make right besides it. Make sure to eat your whole bagel this time -Love Mom.

Three bites only.

I leave the other half for later, ignoring my mom’s note and grab the mouthwash that's always on the counter before it’s time to go to school.  Shuffling over to the kitchen sink, I swish the mouthwash side to side, spitting it out after 10 seconds. 7:50, time to walk to the bus stop. I slip on my shoes, making sure my laces are double knotted, put on my jacket, grab my bag and walk outside, closing the door behind me.  After, reaching for my keys out of my pocket and locking the door, shaking the handle like always to make sure it’s locked. I walk down the stairs until an urge fills me. I try to resist it, but it won’t stop.

Go back up.

I do, and walk back; a sudden relief filling me as I take a deep breath in and then exhale out a cold morning cloud like a dragon breathing fire.  As I start to walk again the urge fills me and it’s hard to breathe. My lungs feel tight.

Don’t touch the cracks on the floor.  Right. Foot. First.

I follow the orders, looking down to make sure I dare not step on a single crack.  The rest of the day went the same way.

Use the correct pencil for every subject.  Make sure your locker is closed fully. Bring all the binders you need for first half.  Push in your chair fully.

Finally, math class is almost done and I hand in my test.  My mind suddenly starts working up again.

What if you didn’t show all your work?  Are you sure you used this formula correctly?  Did you miss a page by mistake?

All of this bothered me until the bell rang.  Chinese, I thought to myself. Walking into the class I smell a horrible smell of fish and possibly flowers?  I gag as I walk towards my desk in the back of the class.

Pull the chair towards you and make sure you’re fully pushed in.

As I notice people walk in, many of my classmates start cringing to the smell the same way I did.  Eventually, we got used to it and continued the class. Ms. Yin, our Chinese teacher then said the one sentence that I didn’t want to hear today: “Class, 明天是汉字考试.”

Great, another test on characters, just what I need to relieve myself over the test I just finished.  I rest my head on the ground annoyed from all of the tests we’ve had recently. The hard wooden desk definitely wasn’t comfortable but it was good enough for me to fall asleep…

WAKE. UP.  

Suddenly I jolt upwards and look back at the whiteboard Ms. Yin’s eyes slowly moving towards mine, “Cassey, what does this character mean?” she points, right in the middle of her lecture on the characters we would be doing for our test.  I couldn’t really see because everything looked disoriented and I squinted at the bright classroom.

“Uhh, I don’t know.”  Ms. Yin’s hand was still on the whiteboard, the characters neatly written with each definition next to them, her projector and computer sitting on top of her desk.

If you don’t know, you’re an idiot.

My face starts turning beet red and sweat starts to form as I crush my face in a way to try to remember what the character was.  My body starts shaking and I start to lose control over myself.

THERE IS NO SECOND CHANCE.  GET IT RIGHT THE FIRST TIME!

I try at the best of my ability to get a good glance at the whiteboard, my lips start shaking as I try get a breath of air, shakily responding with “Th- tha- that’s like.”  She glares at me and I already know what she wants me to say.

“Cassey!  You know the rules in my classroom.  What is it in Chinese!” Ms. Yin yells, stomping the hard floor of our room.  

How.  Could.  You. Mess.  Up. You are a failure.

Everything went numb.  I couldn’t feel my face anymore.  After a minute of me blanking out I make a huge sigh and tell her “那是喜欢.”  

The desks surrounding me are quiet.  Burrowing under my arms I think to myself; when will it be the one time Ms. Yin doesn’t give at least three tests per week?  After class, it’s time to go home and continue the daily cycle.

Open your locker.  Chinese binder first, then social studies, english, science, and finally math.  Books next and finally assignment notebook. Strap on your bag and put on your coat.  Time to go home.   

Finally, after a long day, I sit on my worn out leather chair where our countertop is located.  The same spot to do homework and the same spot I spend so many hours on. Luckily, today I have no homework to do besides the Chinese test that still dreads in my mind.  Even though I know this is true, instead of studying I go to my one escape. The computer up the stairs, down the long hallway to the right, lying in my room on the wooden desk that was placed perfectly behind my chair.  I play video games until it’s 7pm and I realize I haven’t done anything besides that.

Quickly!  Eat, play piano, shower.  NOW!

    All the tasks pop in my mind and I make sure that I do everything in order.  After finishing all the necessary things, it’s 10pm and it’s time for my worst nightmare.  Flashcards. I can’t stand making them. Copying the characters assigned and then writing down the definitions, they’re such a hassle.  I slowly make the flash cards and it’s time consuming. Piles start to form as I scrap each one away.

    Your tonemark in xihuan is incorrect.  Scrap. It’s not dislike it’s like! Scrap.  You made your T in time way too big. Scrap. Your character is too squigly.  Scrap. The way you write the character hanbaobao is horrible. Scrap.

I couldn’t stand it.  I grab my hair in fury at the annoyance of restarting them over and over again.  I have to obey, or else I felt like I was drowning. It was as if I was in the cold, dark, vacuum of space unable to breathe.  Four more flashcards to go, I think to myself, only four more. Although it looks small, I feel as if there was still many more miles to go.  In agony, my mind continues to state the small things I mess up on.

The line should be curved.  This character should have a check!  This word isn’t on the correct line of the flashcard.  When flipping the flashcard over your character is upside down!

Something was always wrong, and I hated it.  I manage to finish one out of the four flashcards but I still have three left.  Every time I put a flashcard in the complete pile my heart feels as if it was being squashed.  My chest felt as if it was being squeezed so hard that my rib cage would break, and my head feeling as if it was being compressed by a hydraulic press.  

I had to make it stop.  Every ounce of me wanted to not listen to the words.  I could not stand all the commands that were popping in my head, telling me what to do.  What’s wrong. What’s right. My hands were shaking. After slowly coming back to reality, I notice the flash cards spread out everywhere, piles and piles of papers to my left side, while the seven out of ten completed were on my right.  I thought to myself, don’t think about it. Leave it be. Everything will be alright. The empty thoughts and comments I made to myself had no effect.

Until I took a deep breath in.  I stopped looking at the flash cards like a mad man, I let go of my pencil, lied down on the couch in front of the tv and let my thoughts roam.  Slowly swaying my feet forwards and backwards in a motion that tickles it, brushing the wool carpet. My chest slowly rising and falling back down as I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, in and out, in and out.  My hair scattered everywhere as my head rests on the cold leather couch. At 11:30 pm I look up and see the scattered flashcards and my pencil lying on the ground. Slowly shuffling off the couch, I bend down, grab my pencil, sit on the leather chair, fix my messy pile of flash cards and although the urge still fills me, I finish it without scraping the last three.  



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