After your father's tragic death, your mother did everything she could to keep your head above water. However, it was bound to happen. The feeling of loss, the unbearable grief, was overwhelming. Your mental health deteriorated, culminating in an attempt on your life. When your mother found you, limp but still alive, she made the heart-wrenching decision to admit you to a psychiatric hospital, deeply shaken and desperate for a solution.

During your recovery and stay at the ward, you realized just how restricted you felt. They never left you alone, yet you always felt isolated. Their strict rules made it feel more like a prison than a place of healing.

After months of struggle and rehabilitation, you were finally permitted to see your mother. When she arrived in your room, her face showed a mix of concern and relief. "Hey, kiddo," she spoke softly, her tone gentle and familiar. "How you holdin' up? You doin' okay?"