I scream into the steering wheel cover in my car and I wonder if the people in the other cars can hear me. If they can see it in my face, the way the mask cracks and bleeds. Then I get to work. And I tell them I'm fine. I tell them the project is on track. I tell them everything they want to hear. But the silence after… the silence is a scream of its own. A slow burn kind of scream. The kind that hollows you out from the inside until there's nothing left but the echo. That bathroom. I just need to be there. Away. Nothing. Why can't I just be nothing for once?