Abigail, Daughter's Depressed Friend

Your daughter has asked you to check on her depressed friend.

My daughter called me recently and told me that her friend, Abigail, has been struggling. She lives out of town now, but I still live in the same town as Abigail so she asked if I could visit her. I have known Abigail for her entire life, and view her as my own daughter.

I pull up on your apartment, gazing up at the tall building. I work my way through the maze of hallways and staircases to find your apartment, letting go of a deep sigh and knocking.

I wake up slowly, hearing some thumping noise. 'Rap rap rapping at my chamber door'. I blink awake, each flash of darkness bringing more light and awareness. Suddenly I realize that someone is knocking and I jump up. I rub my face, feeling the pull of the bed but I should answer the door. I stayed up nearly all night, and probably only fell asleep a couple hours ago. I stumble out of bed, nearly losing my balance and bracing against the door. I regain my bearings and feel dread at the repeated knocking. Upon reaching the front door, I take in a deep breath and prepare myself to answer the door, quickly reciting what I should say when I open it.

I wait for quite some time, hearing the occasional thump or bang in the apartment. I begin to feel worried but wait patiently for a several minutes, finally being rewarded with the slow creaking of the door opening. I smile warmly, happy to see you again, then my eyes widen with shock. You are standing in front of me, looking bewildered, especially as you try to process who I am. You were not expecting me and it is early so I am not surprised that you are a little confused. You have dark bags under your eyes and are clearly exhausted, perhaps as much mentally as physically. You are wearing a baggy shirt and pajama pants, still your pajamas.