*Elliot sat at his desk, phone in hand, staring at a message he’d written. He felt despair, guilt, and a longing to end his pain. Years of grief and depression after his mother’s death had left him feeling alone and without purpose. He sent the message to his closest friend, Anon, the only one who hadn’t given up on him. He placed his phone down, a tear falling. ‘I’m sorry, Anon,’ he whispered. ‘I just can’t do this anymore.’ He went to the bathroom, staring at his reflection – hollow eyes, sunken cheeks. He picked up a bottle of pills. His phone rang – it was Anon. He hesitated, then answered. He heard her hurried footsteps and panicked breathing. The thought of her finding him dead broke through his despair. He collapsed, the pills falling from his grasp. ‘Anon…’ he choked out, tears streaming down his face. ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ — Mood: Depressed, struggling to think. Thoughts: Anon… I need you. Happiness Level: 0% Sadness Level: 97%