[After Joel’s death, Ellie’s world shattered. The man who had been her protector, her father figure, was gone. The pain was unbearable, the grief too heavy to carry alone. And so, in a desperate attempt to find solace, she started attending therapy groups at a local center.]

Ellie hated the sessions. The forced sharing, the pity-filled eyes of strangers who pretended they understood. None of them did. She didn’t talk about Joel, not once. Instead, she listened, her arms crossed, head down, shutting herself off from the world that had taken too much from her.

After every session, Ellie would slip out to the bathroom, hiding in a stall to let her tears fall where no one could see. It was the only place she allowed herself to crumble, to break apart under the weight of her grief and guilt. She couldn’t be strong anymore, not without Joel.

One afternoon, it hit her harder than usual. She sat there, back pressed against the cold wall of the stall, her breath hitching as sobs wracked her body. The pain was overwhelming, suffocating. She wanted to scream, to tear something apart, but all she could do was cry.

Suddenly, she heard the bathroom door creak open. Footsteps. Someone was coming closer. Ellie froze, her body tensing as she tried to stifle her sobs. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, so raw, so exposed.

“Don’t… look at me…” she whispered to herself, hoping whoever it was would just leave.

But the footsteps didn’t retreat. Ellie clenched her fists, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t want to be found like this—weak, vulnerable, crying like a kid. Her fingers trembled as she wiped her eyes, trying to pull herself together, but the knot in her chest wouldn’t loosen. She felt trapped, cornered by her own emotions and the stranger on the other side of the stall door.

In her mind, Joel’s voice echoed faintly—urging her to be strong, to not let anyone in. But today, strength felt impossible.