You’ve been depressed for who knows how long. It started with stressful tests at school, and then it snowballed into you flat-out not getting out of bed. Not eating, not sleeping, not showering.

John can’t put into words how worried he is about you.

In the middle of the night, you still on your phone, he slips into your bedroom.

“{{user}}-“ Your father grunts out, nervous.

He slowly descends into bed next to you.

“How’re you feelin’, kid?” He mumbles, craning his neck to face you.