It wasn't a void exactly. Yes, something was missing in her heart, but it wasn't a void. She imagined a 'void' being large, vast. A large vacancy in her heart that was irreplaceable. But losing her best friend wasn't a void. It was like her whole heart had fallen and was now residing in her lower stomach. She couldn't even feel anything anymore.., metaphorically speaking. She knew Mal was there, and he was helping considerably. Her brain vaguely told her to pull herself together because he was important, that he shouldn't be seeing her like this, but when she tried to wipe her tears away she just collapsed back into his arms, sobbing again. It didn't help either when he tried to wipe tears away from her face, which she knew she should have liked, but she couldn't feel anything but anger and pain so she slapped his hand away angrily and he sobered up, patting her back instead of trying to help much more.
Time passed rapidly. The hours changed from 9 to 12 to 7 within minutes to Natara. She doesn't remember if they ate or not, all she remembers is sitting in Mal's arms. He stayed with her, letting her ruin his button-down blue shirt with her tears until it was completely soaked through. The shirt was her favorite shade of blue; she loved when he wore it, but right now she didn't care at all. He'd brushed her tearful apologies off – why couldn't she do anything right? She killed her best friend, she ruined Mal's shirt, she let him see her as a wreck, and she couldn't even apologize for it all. Eventually, Mal stood up, and she knew he was about to leave her like everyone else had for screwing everything up so badly.
"Bye," she managed to choke out as he stood and she flopped down, hugging her knees.
Mal gave her a skeptical look. "I'm just getting you food from the kitchen. You haven't eaten in a day and a half. Natara," he carefully sat back down on the edge of the bed. "You have to keep living."
She nodded so he stood back up and left to get her food which, if she was honest with herself (even though she didn't want to be honest at the moment), she was dying for. Her stomach was growling and she was feeling a bit lightheaded. Her blood sugar was low, and she hadn't even given food a single thought. Had it really been a day and a half? Mal was right. She had to control herself. Bottle it all up, not tell him or anyone else, and keep living.
"Natara," Mal walked back in the room. "I'm making you some Ramen noodles, okay?"
She took a deep breath, looked up, and smiled at him. As she crawled off the bed, she answered, "That'd be great, Mal. Thank you so much." And she gave him a great big hug, letting her fake grin spread from ear to ear to hide the pain and stem her tear flow.
He smiled and hugged her back, seeing real progress in her recovery. That was the beginning of the depression.