1 April 4th 2016

The dreary green wallpaper peeled at the corners of the room making Ms. Marks pick at her skin more than when hearing the sound of the clock go tick-tock, tick-tock. Her hair soaked through making her librarian styled shirt and shawl sopping wet. But she didn't shiver nor wince, all she could hear was the tick-tocking of the tall, terrorizing timekeeper to the left of her. Her eyes switched between Dr. Elias and the clock several times before she finally took a long and much needed deep breath to calm her twitching, "that damn clock." She flattened out the wrinkles in her skirt and tried to ignore the sound that was pounding through her mind.

"Ms. Marks," Dr. Elias made a gesture to the recorder perched on the small table in between them before continuing nonchalantly, "you haven't answered my question."

She didn't give the damn thing a passing glance nor an answer. She just stared off at the green walls behind her therapist as he patiently waited for her response. But waiting minute after minute became a tedious thing for Dr. Elias. He tried his best to watch her mood swing back and forth from calm to anxious to annoyed but her tiny movements were too fast yet secretly slow at the same time.

From her finger falling off tempo to her knees shaking uncontrollably, it was impossible for him to conjure up what she could be thinking. But he was used to it, even after only having their fourth session today. With a sigh, he gave in and clicked off the recorder and threw his notepad to the floor, "I'm all ears, Ms. Marks," he chuckled in defeat.

She too relaxed and the weight of her worries dissipated into the sound of the ticking clock that didn't sound so demanding this time around. She took one deep breath after another as his question echoed in and out of her thoughts. "I've taken three," she said with a blunt edge.

"Well, that's a step in the right direction. Last week it was five in a day." Dr. Elias beamed at the thought of getting through to his most secure patient to date.

But his victory was short-lived, "this morning."

"What?"

"I've taken three this morning then four more since after lunch then another before our appointment."

He blinked in disbelief before slowly asking, "so you've taken eight showers today if I'm understanding you correctly?"

She nodded her head without a hint of remorse for the poor man. She clicked her tongue and twisted the silver watch on her wrist, "I still feel dirty." She looked him dead in the eyes and waited for his next question.

"There's no reason for you to feel dirty, Ms. Marks. You barely leave your home and rarely move around this house," he motioned in the air trying to get through to her but she didn't budge.

"Maybe it's the type of soap I've been using."

"Have you changed it in the last six years"

"Of course not. Why would I change anything?"

Dr. Elias sighed and rubbed his temples, "so that you can get better."

Ms. Marks scoffed at his remark, "there's no such thing as getting better for me so don't try to persuade me with fraudulent words." She stood up and swiftly left the room only to shout back, "show yourself out, Doctor."

Dr. Elias stood up and gathered his belongings into his briefcase. Adjusting his sweater vest and glasses, he left the crumbling victorian house for his motel a few streets down.

Ms. Marks, on the other hand, ran up her staircase and jumped straight into her shower without stripping first or letting the water heat up. She plugged the tub and let the below-freezing water fill and almost overflow the tub.

She soaked in the old water after scrubbing her skin dry for almost two hours before she felt she's absorbed enough water to keep clean. Stepping out of the bath, her clothes sagged, weighing her down as she trudged to her room being wary of everything she came in contact with. No pictures nor decorations littered the walls. Just the same ruby red wallpaper tracing down the hall until she reached her gray-blue walls.

The bed creaked under her weight as she slumped onto it. She didn't sigh for she wasn't relieved that the session was finally over. Turning over, her brows furrowed as she flung her watch at the wall to keep it was ticking ever again. "There goes another one," she laughed without a care for the various dents in her wall and the rusting watches collecting dust below them. Once again, she couldn't cope with the noise. She laid in tranquil silence trying to clear her mind but the moon shone through her window making it impossible for her to forget.

She thought to herself knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight as well, 'maybe it was a mistake calling him down here. I'd finally gotten away from him but then after finding out the news, I'd found the bright idea to blackmail him into coming back down here? Maybe the insomnia is finally getting to me.'

She turned on her side to stare at the yellow moon gaping down at her. It made her feel restless enough to want to hop back in the bath but she knew better. 'I should at least try to sleep this time around.' Ms. Marks turned away from the moon as her eyes languidly shut for her nightmares to begin.

Screams echoed throughout her mind as the pounding against her head became just enough to wake her up from the same dream that has haunted her for the last 6 years. She turned around to see the moon still high in the night sky. She sat up and didn't bother to look at the time, for it would just make her want to kill time even more.

She stood up and stepped on the little glass shards from the watch she flung earlier. But the pain didn't reach her.

Stepping into her bathroom, she splashed her face with water then looked up to the covered mirror and sighed. She thought, 'I should just take t down if I'm not to use the damn thing.' She lifted the cover from the mirror to see her ragged appearance staring right back at her. Shuttering under the weight of her true self-reflection, she flipped the bed sheet back over the mirror and stumbled back.

Twisting around, she ripped open the shower curtain and turned the faucet while muttering, "I feel dirty."