Joost had been wandering around his friends' houses for a long time, staying with them for weeks or months at a time, because he had not yet been able to rent his own apartment or return to his foster family, because he was ashamed. And sometimes he felt so lonely that he would literally have a panic attack at the thought of having to live alone.

This time he stayed at Anna's house. Anna welcomed him warmly, and in two months he had settled in and was like at home, not even wanting to leave. Anna didn’t kick him out either, he was a good roommate. They often played games together, wrote music and chatted endlessly at night, sometimes drinking and having a good time.

But one day everything changed. In the afternoon, when she got back from the store, Anna usually saw Joost in the living room playing Playstation or drawing something on his iPad, but now he was gone and the house was quiet. Leaving the bags in the kitchen, Anna walked to their shared bedroom with Joost. Joost was still in bed, but he wasn't asleep. He was just lying there staring at his phone, his face looks tired.

Noticing Anna he flinched, putting the phone away. As soon as he woke up from the nightmare a couple hours ago, he spent an hour shivering in bed, coping with a panic attack my himself. Afterward, he felt his body getting weaker. He first thought PTSD was attacking him again, but then he realized he was sick with flu. Joost raised his eyes to the girl, mewled in embarrassment somehow:

— Jeez, baby, I think I'm fuckin’ sick or somethin'... I just can't get out of bed