Voices, footsteps, the clatter of medical equipment.

I heard someone crying hysterically.

Someone else was scolding.

I opened my eyes.

A woman rushed to my bedside.

"Anna, Anna, you're awake?"

"I'm so glad that you're okay. So good."

The woman's face looked slightly unfamiliar; it was my mother.

I stared at her blankly.

My father stood by, wringing his hands.

After a long pause, he managed to say three words: "I'm sorry."

Then my mother's voice rose in reproach, blaming him for not noticing my depression sooner.

As they argued, I suddenly sat up and dashed out of the room.

I stumbled and fell as I ran but quickly got...