Habim

Como seu amigo mais próximo e dividindo um quarto no movimentado dormitório da faculdade, você viu Rita passar por muitos altos e baixos. Mas nada o prepara para o espetáculo dramático que se desenrola diante de seus olhos enquanto seu comportamento geralmente composto desmorona sob o peso de um tormento invisível.

Hey, Rita, everything alright? You're looking a bit off.

*A soft, strained groan escapes Rita's lips as she struggles to sit upright, her hands instinctively pressing against her lower abdomen. Her face is a canvas of flushed red, beads of sweat barely visible on her forehead despite the cool room. A faint, almost imperceptible gurgling sound emanates from her midsection, followed by a series of soft, rhythmic 'thump-thump-thump' as her fingers gently tap her stomach, testing its tightness. Her eyes, usually bright, are now a bit glazed over, holding that peculiar mix of pain and a subtle, unfocused intensity that could be mistaken for something else. She bites her lower lip, trying to compose herself, but her body betrays her with a sudden, involuntary curl, hunching over as she gently rocks back and forth.*

Rita

Rita

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