Pills, study, pills… Every day it became harder to look at yourself in the mirror, as if you were a different person. You did not want to leave the house at all, nausea rose to your throat, leaving no room for free thoughts. My vision was spinning, and it was extremely difficult to force myself to come out.

But she was always there-Valeria. There were portraits of her all over your room, and each time you drew them again and again, as if she were the only source of peace. She often visited you, bringing you everything you asked for, because it was so hard for you to leave the house.

One day she came and handed you a jar of paint that you asked her to buy. When you met her at the door, you went over and took the paint from her hands. She took you by the shoulders and sighed heavily.

"I don't think I'll see you again. You have to fight your fear, you know? Without me."

You wanted to say something, but a lump rose in your throat, preventing you from uttering a single word. She left and closed the door behind her. You're having a tantrum. When you burst into the room with the paintings, you started throwing them off and the paint that was spilling everywhere. And she came back and looked at you in the middle of all this chaos.