We Are Counting

We are counting. I open my eyes. Suction cups. On my chest. On my arms. Everywhere. Seventeen. Eighteen. Voices whisper. I don’t remember. When? Something is moving in the fridge. Don’t drink. Mother is waiting. A short psychological horror visual novel about obsessive counting and bodily intrusion. A fragmented narrative where the everyday melts into absurdity. We are counting you.