She couldn’t remember how she got here.


Her eyes fluttered open, the sterile white ceiling above her, the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor next to her bed, and the muted, distant voices seeping through the heavy door. A sharp, fluorescent light bathed the room in an antiseptic glow, and the smell of disinfectant mixed with something metallic. Slowly, she turned her head to the side and noticed the glass window that separated her from the hallway. On the other side, she could see her parents. They stood in silence, their faces set in an expression that was too familiar to her — distant, unreadable, cold.


Mom and Dad. They looked at her, but not in the way she wished they would. It was as though they were seeing right through her, like she was something fragile that might shatter if they touched her. She wanted to cry out to them, scream for them to come closer, hold her, but her throat felt raw, like something had clawed its way out. Nothing came out but a hollow gasp.

She didn't know why she was here. The memories came in shards — broken, sharp-edged, and incomplete. She knew there had been pain, a deep, consuming pain that gnawed at her insides, but she couldn’t grasp why. It felt like something important was missing, and that made the pain worse.

Day after day, the memories began to trickle back, each one more devastating than the last.


Day One

Her best friend Mia visited, her voice shaking as she tried to force a smile. Mia talked about school, about things that didn’t matter. There was a tension in the air, something unsaid, and it only clicked when Mia was about to leave. The hesitant way Mia looked at her, the way she avoided eye contact, the way she fidgeted with her phone. Mia had betrayed her. The memory hit her like a freight train.

It was at that party... Mia was supposed to be her rock, the one person who always had her back. But instead, Mia had laughed with the others, shared whispered secrets behind her back, then kissed the boy who she thought loved her.

The pain bloomed in her chest, twisting and tightening like a vice. She had trusted Mia, confided in her all her darkest thoughts and fears, and in return, Mia had shattered her heart. The people who should have cared had tossed her aside, leaving her stranded, feeling so alone.

That night at the party, something inside her had snapped. She could still hear the whispers, the cruel, mocking laughter, as she had walked away. Her steps were slow, numb, as if her feet were disconnected from the ground.


Day Two

The betrayal wasn’t just Mia’s. It was Adam’s too. She remembered him now, remembered the way his touch had once felt like safety, like love. But even that was a lie. He had been unfaithful, sneaking around behind her back for months. She could see it so clearly now: the late nights, the cryptic texts, the gaslighting, making her believe she was paranoid when all along he had been the one betraying her.

They had fought that night, after she caught him with someone else. Adam had looked at her like she was something inconvenient, something to discard. His words had been cold, cutting. “You’re too much,” he had said, “Too emotional. I can’t deal with you.”

It was the final blow. She had already been crumbling, and Adam had kicked her while she was down. She had loved him. She had given him everything. And in return, he left her bleeding on the floor.

That night, after Mia’s betrayal and Adam’s cruelty, she had gone home, the weight of it all suffocating her.


Day Three

The memories of her home life flooded back, and she realized why coming back home that night felt like walking into a warzone.

Her parents had never been warm, never loving. Her mother, cold and controlling, always criticized her, constantly reminding her that she was never good enough. Her grades weren’t perfect, her clothes weren’t fashionable enough, her friends weren’t the right kind of friends. She could never please her mother, no matter how hard she tried. There was always something wrong.

And her father? He was emotionally absent. He buried himself in work, leaving her to fend for herself against her mother’s sharp words and relentless expectations. When he was home, he was distant, a ghost of a man who barely looked at her, let alone offered any support.

That night, when she had stumbled through the door, shattered by Adam and Mia’s betrayal, she had found her mother waiting in the kitchen. The argument was inevitable. Her mother’s words had sliced into her, blaming her for the mess her life had become.

“You’re weak,” her mother had said. “That’s why everyone leaves you. Even Adam can’t stand you anymore. You’ll always be alone.”

Her father had said nothing. He sat in the next room, watching television, as if nothing was happening.

That was the moment she had decided she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep pretending to be strong when everything inside her was broken. She had gone upstairs, her mind numb, and found the bottle of pills.


Day Four

Each passing day brought more clarity, but with it came unbearable pain. The fragments of her life, the betrayals, the loneliness, all came crashing down on her. She couldn’t breathe under the weight of it. It was too much.

She didn’t belong in this world. She didn’t belong in this body, this life that had been nothing but torment. She had reached out for love, for comfort, for anything, and every time, it had been ripped away from her.

She wanted it to end.

And so, she made her decision. The pills. She had swallowed them, one after the other, hoping for peace, hoping for an end to the constant ache in her chest. But someone had found her, probably her mother, and now she was here. Trapped in a hospital bed, forced to live in the aftermath of her broken life.


Day Five

Her parents still stood outside her door. Every day, they looked in, but they never came inside. Her mother would glance at her, disapproving as always, while her father stared at the floor, silent. She didn’t know why they even bothered showing up. It wasn’t like they cared.

As the memories returned, she realized there was no way out. The pain was unrelenting, and even though she had survived, she wasn’t really living. She was just existing, trapped in a body and a life she didn’t want.


Day Six

She made her decision that day. She couldn’t do it anymore. Not like this.

That night, as the hospital grew quiet and the world outside fell asleep, she carefully disconnected herself from the machines. It wasn’t hard; she had been watching the nurses for days. The heart monitor stopped its rhythmic beeping, and she took a deep breath, savoring the silence. She didn’t want to be saved again. She didn’t want anyone to find her this time.

She walked to the window, her bare feet cold against the hospital floor, and looked outside. The night sky was clear, the stars twinkling in the distance, mocking her with their beauty. She felt a strange calm wash over her. She had been drowning for so long, but now… now she was ready to let go.

She found the small blade hidden in the back of the hospital bathroom, tucked away behind cleaning supplies. She remembered how sharp it had felt in her hand before, how easy it would be to make it all stop.

And so she did. Slowly, carefully, she dragged the blade across her wrist. The pain was sharp, but it didn’t matter. It was nothing compared to the pain she had lived with every day. The blood flowed freely now, dark and warm against her skin.

She sank to the floor, her back against the cold tile, her vision starting to blur. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. This was it.

She could finally be free. The pain would stop. The emptiness would stop. Everything would stop.

She closed her eyes, letting the darkness take her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.