She couldn't remember the last time she had seen the sun. Days went by fast, and the nights felt endless. Her apartment was a cocoon that kept her trapped in a cycle of sleep, beer, and screen time. Her stomach was as empty as the bottles on the bedside table. The news was always bad and she felt powerless about everything. There was an agonizing silence, broken only by the occasional phone call from her mother, who worried about her.
She got up from the bed and walked past the plate on the windowsill. She couldn’t remember what had been on it, as it was covered with mold. There was a swarm of banana flies flying around it. Clothes were spread out in piles across the floor, and all the way out to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the red wine stain on her shirt, streaks of mascara under her eyes and her thin pale body. She used to have a job, friends and a life. Now she could no longer keep track of the passing days. The days were the same, the weeks were long and the months short. She couldn't find the energy to shower, dress or do anything. The walls closed in around her.
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