ONE
The clock on the wall is my enemy. I am in a race against time. If only, I say to myself, if only I can last five minutes I will be on my way to normalcy. Normal people resist the urge. Normal people don’t even have the urge. I know this must be true. If they only knew the wars that raged inside the boundaries of my mind, perhaps I wouldn’t seem so foreign, so peculiar. There is no need to do this, I say to myself. Don’t give in. I look at my hands as they begin to shake.

TWO
The mirror in front of my face is foggy from my haggard breath. It is a relief not to see my reflection. I am sure that if I were to see my face I would find deep lines and creases, one for each torturous minute. My face is a map, the topography of battles. It shows my war with the enemy. My heart pounds. There is a ringing in my ears. Thoughts are racing through my brain, struggling to overpower each other. Silence is elusive; my mind yearns for peace, but it is nowhere to be found. I am a stranger in a strange land. Trapped in a land of contamination and fear, I wonder how to get home, to a place of rest. To have a moment’s peace I must escape.

THREE
The clock on the wall is timeless, paused in a single moment. Of that I am convinced; my studious examination of the hands shows no movement. I cannot will the top of the hour to arrive and release me. Those on the outside offer no help. We do no speak the same language. When I voice words of explanation, I receive nothing but ridicule for my pains. Ridicule goaded me into this situation, yet I am convinced that this is for the best. My determination is shaky, but I must stand firm. If I don’t look at my hands, maybe they will stop trembling. Maybe they’ll go away.

FOUR
Sweat drips from my forehead. I feel my body tense. I will my sweat glands to close but they join the side of my enemy and laugh at me. I am a farce, a comical figment of my own imagination. I may break. My special friend, a companion on this journey, calls my name in a way few understand. The voice, audible only to me, intrudes upon my chaotic thoughts and weak conviction. Why do you resist? Give in. It’s for the best. It’s the only way you’ll find peace. My body trembles as I announce my resolution to the empty room. “I will not break. I will be normal!”

FIVE
Fear, my adversary, creeps into my mind’s cavern, dragging Mysophobia behind him, a triumphant look in his eyes. You are going to get sick. How many people have touched that doorknob today alone? The name of every germ or bacteria known to man rushes toward my mind’s eye like kamikaze pilots intent on their mission.
It is pointless to expect victory.
I surrender.
I move toward the sink and touch the friendly arm of the faucet.
I wash my hands.
My resolution lasted five minutes. A record.