Page 11 - DeepRestFlipFinal

DEEP REST
She opened her eyes. The room was still there.
The silence, still deafening.
Why?
The question was a constant, gnawing ache in her
chest. She was a doctor. A healer. She had degrees,
accolades, a reputation built on understanding the
intricacies of the brain. Yet, she had failed the one
person who mattered most.
She walked slowly into the room, her footsteps
muffled by the thick carpet. Her fingers traced the
spine of The Bell Jar. Plath. Mallory had always
identified with Plath’s raw vulnerability, her struggle
with the darkness. She had tried to pull her out of it, to
shine a light into the corners of her mind. Therapy
sessions, medication adjustments, endless
conversations, late-night calls. Nothing.
It was like trying to scoop water with a sieve. The
depression, Mallory’s demon, was too pervasive, too
insidious. It seeped into every crack, every crevice,
until there was nothing left but a hollow shell.
Evelyn sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress
yielding under her weight. She picked up the mug.
Cold. So cold. How long had it been there? Had
Mallory been drinking coffee, reading Plath, just
hours before...?
A shudder ran through her.
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