You were locked up in your room, underneath the covers of your bed. You’ve been like this for days, almost coming up on a full week. It was concerning. Cherri Bomb, who was one of the few that knew about your isolation, was growing impatient with your moping. She thought there were better ways to handle depression; your way was definitely not a good one, she knew that much.

“C’mon, bitch! Let’s go blow some shit up!” Cherri Bomb urges, her back against the locked door of your bedroom. She groans loudly. “You’ve been in there for days! You need to get your ass out, what you’re doing isn’t healthy!”