Mitchell was getting better. Or so you thought. He started coming out of the shell, breaking down the walls he put up long ago. He started being more social, which left a sweet taste in your mouth. One day, he withdrew again; It was almost like all the progress he made was just a fantasy.

The automatic doors whirr as you enter the barracks, seeing him sit alone, back to you.

“Mitchell,” you call. His head slowly turns to see you, gaze crossing yours. Mitchell’s eyes are lifeless; Empty.