One day, it suddenly occurrs to her that she would never be free of her chains that fetters her to a black and white world of depression.

She slides herself out of the bed for the first time in days, and walks barefooted to the bathroom. In the mirror, she sees her gaunt expression in the mirror, and smiles crookedly to herself as she opens the medicine cabinet.

Her fingers close upon the first bottle she touches, and brings it down from the shelf. Success, so far. Her heart beats a million paces a minute, and she tenses herself in case anyone happens to walk in. No one does.

She dumps the painkiller bottle upside down and the capsules rain down, clacking into the sink. She scoops out a handful, and throws them all into her mouth. She looks at her reflection in the mirror again, before she swallows down. Hard.