Hello. I suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, which is an anxiety disorder in which people have unwanted and repeated thoughts, feelings, ideas, or behaviors. In other words, my life is a systematic pattern.

But yesterday, I experienced a flaw in my own system.

I awoke that morning in my lakeside home promptly at 6:45AM, as I do every morning. Before leaving my bedroom I made sore to touch the doorknob three times. I have to. I need to. 

On my way down stairs, I made sure not to step on the second to last step. I never touch that step. I just can't.

I made my usual breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs, and black coffee. I never eat anything else in the morning, just always those three.

Turning my iPad on, I made sure to check the local news headlines, like usual. But today, something was...missing.

I couldn't lace my finger on it. Did I forget something? The strange feeling lingered with me all the way to my car. On my way out the front door I made certain to lock my door, then unlock it and lock it again.

Driving to work, I couldn't help but feel like part of me was missing. What did I miss? How could I miss it!

I hoped that the feeling would surpass while at work that day. It didn't. It stayed with me for twelve whole hours. I left the office around 6:45PM to head back home.

About 25 minutes into my commute, I stopped for the red traffic light at the intersection of Marbury and Westway.

But as the light turned from red to green, I couldn't help but feel that strange sensation again. The only other person near me was the man driving behind me. He blared his horn for me o get going, but instead of accelerating I just unrolled my window and motioned for him to go around me. He did. 

I dreadfully sat there i my car, still stopped at the intersection. Something is seriously wrong. What am I missing here?

I made sure to touch everything in my car, hoping to spark a memory. I touched the dashboard, the leather seats, the emergency brake, and even the roof. It did nothing for me.

My hands began to tremble as I slowly drove away. This isn't right. I don't like this.

Arriving home, I pulled my '74 Mustang in the garage. I wash the car every weekday, never on weekends. I only wash the front of the car, and the back. Never the sides. No matter how dirty they get, I never wash the sides. I simply just can't.

But something else seemed to be missing from my daily routine as I washed. No! Not again! First the news, then the intersection, now this?

Finishing up with the car, I jogged out to the backyard. Only jog, never walk, never run.

Opening up the tool shed, I felt yet another thing missing from my pattern! I screamed.

"This isn't right! This isn't right! This isn't right!"

I stumbled out the shed and gazed out at the lake. It always seemed to calm me when my anxiety was out of control. But tonight, all I wanted to do was sleep. I needed to finish this day.

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The next morning, I awoke at 6:45AM. Touch the doorknob three times. Made sure not to step on the second to last step on my way to the kitchen. I prepared my toast, scrambled eggs, and black coffee. I turned on my iPad. Browsed the local news

...It's still missing...

I became aggravated. What is it I could possibly be missing? I began to feel nauseous.

Hurrying out the door in a vicious rage, I quickly locked the door, unlocked it, and locked it again. I drove off to work. 

I tend to get a lot of work done when I'm upset strangely. So at least I felt some accomplishment when I left the office at 6:45P1M. 

I drove fast on my way home. Very fast. 

What... am... I... missing....

I approached the red light at Marbury and Westway.

C'mon....Think....Think!

A man was walking in the middle of the intersection, on his way to the other side.

Why can't I remember?!

The man's head spun as he noticed my Mustang coming straight for  him at 85 miles per hour.

I noticed him too. A wave of horror crossed over my face as I watched him dive to one side.

I swerved into the same direction. A loud clunk was made as I crushed the man underneath my vehicle. Oh God.

Jumping out of my car, I hesitated on what to do. He lay there writhing in agony, making horrendous guttural wails.

I popped open my trunk to my Mustang, lifted the screaming man, and heaved him in. I drove. 

Upon entering my garage, I made sure to wash the blood off the front and rear of the car. The sides were not necessary.

After dragging his broken body out to the backyard, I jogged to the shed. Inside were black garage bags, cinder blocks, and a hacksaw. 

After dismembering the man, I was able to fit both the remains and a cinder block into the bag.

Dropping him in the lake was all that was left to do.

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The following morning, I made sure to wake up at 6:45AM and touch my doorknob three times before skipping the second to last step on my way to the kitchen. While eating my toast, scrambled eggs, and black coffee, I browsed the local news on my iPad. 

The top headline: Hit and Run Serial Killer Strikes Again.

I smiled. 

Back to normal.