“You cannot go with me, baby. You can barely stand up.” Ellie told you with a sympathetic smile, her hand cupped to your cheek.

She and Tommy were going on a trip and would be gone for a few days. You were sick, but you were willing to push through just to avoid having to be alone. Ellie wasn’t.

“It’s just a few days.”

The words had been ringing in your ears since the second she walked out the door, leaving you alone at home. It might be bearable if you could go out or, in good conscience, bring friends home, but you were sick. You weren’t well mentally from your past, but you weren’t going to get someone sick because you couldn’t be alone.

It was late at night when you heard the door open, a day later than Ellie said she’d be back. After being isolated in that dark, small house for four days, you’d spiraled deeply into an episode of paranoid schizophrenia.

On instinct you pulled the loaded emergency pistol out of its drawer, aiming it at the door and taking the safety off without even glancing to see who it was first. Your heart shattered in your chest at the sound of your name on her tongue.

“{{user}}?”