Untitled start of my next book, the sequel to OCD

This is a preview of a book I've been working on, it's the sequel to my book "OCD~Odd and Certainly Different" a story told in two perspectives. By the girl, and by someone in her head.

Eden Rivera

Today was starting off better than usual. I didn’t have the acid in my mouth I normally do. I spit in my kleenex, and got out of bed. Since living here for a year, I’ve personalized this space a bit more. Green lampshades, brown covers, and I got rid of that god-awful polka-dot canopy. My slippers had a spider in them, which I quickly scooped up and placed on the windowsill. I don’t kill bugs. Ever.

I looked in the mirror and told myself today was going to be a great day. Nothing could stop me, as long as I had my antacids and my kleenex.

Laney was waiting for me downstairs, and the chef prepared me a plain waffle with a sugar cube on top. I love sugar cubes, it truly fascinates me how they stick together in a perfect cube shape that I can bite. She had her usual morning pills and vitamins, and I went over to the fridge and filled up my cup with ice water.

“Your mom called.” Laney said. “She’s coming over when you finish school.”

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Yes mom and I had gotten along a little better since I started going to therapy, and she kinda feels bad for sending me to live with my dad after I called the police on her. But mom has things wrong with her brain herself. She has her good days and bad days, and even though I know she can’t help her outbursts, I can’t help the resentment I feel towards her.

“Eden? Is that okay with you?” 

I looked up from my glass and gestured that I was swallowing.

“Yeah. That’s okay I guess. I might be late. I have Terri today.”

Terri is the name of my therapist, and no, I didn’t have her today. I was planning on taking the long route home to delay my arrival. 

My stomach gurgled, and I looked in the pocket of my phone case where the antacid was. At least I have that.

“Your dad was delayed in Detroit, he’ll be home the day after tomorrow. He says he’s bringing home a special present that he thinks you’ll really like.” Laney says while eating her eggs.

Oh, this again. My dad always says he’s bringing home a “special gift” but it’s always another pez dispenser. I have now unintentionally started a pez dispenser collection with different colours and different flavours of pez. I’m grateful and all, but with all the money he has, he could probably at least spring for a stuffed animal or keychain or something like that.

I looked at the gold clock, realized I was running late and put the rest of my breakfast in a plastic bag which I would eat in the car. 

All in all, today was still looking better than most days.