On Monday, he had a first date with a man he’d been talking to for about two weeks. They met at a park a few hours before sunset. They talked about themselves, their childhoods, their interests and intentions. They had dinner together. They shared a drink. They made jokes, and felt completely and utterly attracted to one another. They enjoyed their time so much that they ended the night inside each other’s mouths. Laughing, smiling, holding onto one another, happy. By the time Marcel got back to his apartment, he knew they were in love. He fell asleep thinking of their future together.

On Tuesday, Marcel woke up to a phone call from the police that both of his parents had died. They’d been attacked in their sleep by an intruder the night before. An unknown person, presumably a young, athletic man in his late 20s or early 30s, according to police, broke into their home at around 2 o’clock. He stole many goods, including an antique painting, a set of fine china, the safe from their laundry room, which contained nearly all of their savings, and their dog, Ralph. The police also presumed that the intruder had no intention of killing anyone that night. It appeared as though his parents woke up to the commotion and attempted to scare off the intruder with a baseball bat by banging it against the wall. However, rather than growing frightened and fleeing the scene, the intruder instead raced up the stairs and shot them dead. Marcel sat up in his bed, shocked and nauseous. He couldn’t find his words, but when he eventually did, the first question he asked was why they thought the intruder had no intention of murdering anybody if he brought a gun into their home. There was silence on the other end of the line for many minutes. They didn’t have an answer. They hadn’t even caught the suspect, and were already jumping to conclusions.

After an hour in the car, Marcel arrived at the morgue to view his parents before their cremations; he hadn’t known until then that being burned to ash immediately after death was in their written will. Their faces were unrecognizable, as the intruder shot them right in their noses. He kissed them both on their hands and said goodbye and left. Everything happened so fast. For a moment, it felt as though he were dreaming.

As he drove back to his apartment in silence, he grew quite tired and decided to turn on the radio. A woman’s voice spoke of a horrific burglary that resulted in a tragic double homicide in the local town… and then she used Marcel’s parent’s names. He clicked off the radio and increased the speed of his car.

On Wednesday, Marcel didn’t get out of bed until the evening. He didn’t look at his phone all day, so he didn’t know exactly what time it was when he got up to use the bathroom. It burned to pee, but he did it anyway, then immediately went back to bed.

On Thursday, Marcel checked his phone for the first time in nearly 48 hours. He prepared himself for condolence messages from friends and distant family members; he assumed local media outlets had spread the story wide and quick enough for people in his life to be concerned and checking in on him.

But he had no new notifications.

On Friday, Marcel reached out to the man he went on a date with on Monday. His text read something along the lines of:

This week has been tough. Something has happened in my family. I know we just really met, but I’m wondering if we could get together and talk? I think it would be good for me. Plus, I enjoyed our time together.

When he pressed send, the message immediately flashed: NOT DELIVERED. This, he knew, usually occurs after someone blocks your phone number…

On Saturday, Marcel was terminated from his work-from-home job after failing to appear virtually for three consecutive days. Honestly, he had been so caught up in the week’s events that he completely forgot he had a job. He tried explaining himself to his supervisors, to no avail. They terminated him effective immediately with no severance. He quickly became terrified. It was then he began to cry for the first time all week. All Marcel could think about was how lonely he was. He sat in bed all day craving human interaction, but not knowing where or how to get it, nor who it would be with. He cried until the sun came out on Sunday morning.

On Sunday, Marcel decided to contact a mental health crisis line. It was nearly 11PM. Everyone in his small town was asleep, but he was wide awake and plagued with horrible thoughts and feelings about himself and the world around him. Just last week, he was doing fine. But now, it appeared as though everyone in his life had left him. His parents, his date, his friends, who, for whatever reason, neglected to reach out to Marcel to check in on him and his health and well-being. And he was not doing fine. He scanned the internet for an anonymous crisis line and found one almost immediately. He followed their instructions by texting the word CRISIS to a random 5-digit number. An immediate response popped up:

Hello! Thanks for reaching out today. We’re here to help. Reply STOP to cancel. Msg frequency varies. Msg & data rates may apply. We will connect you to a trained counselor shortly.

And another:

We’re experiencing higher than normal wait times. While you wait, check out our online Support Center for helpful info.

And another:

Thanks for waiting. We’ll connect you with a counselor as soon as possible.

Minutes passed… Marcel waited, and waited:

Thanks for waiting. We’ll connect you with a counselor as soon as possible.

And waited:

Thanks for waiting. We’ll connect you with a counselor as soon as possible.

Thanks for waiting. We’ll connect you with a counselor as soon as possible.

Thanks for waiting. We’ll connect you with a counselor as soon as possible.

Thanks for waiting. We’ll connect you with a counselor as soon as possible.

Thanks for waiting. We’ll connect you with a counselor as soon as possible.

You are now connected to a counselor.

Hi there, my name is Brittany. Thanks for reaching out to the crisis line. Who are you? I see you’ve been in the queue for almost an hour. Thank you for your patience! Is everything okay? What can I help you with tonight?

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Author’s Note: I wrote this piece after reading an article about the mental health crisis happening in our world. Life can change in an instant. Cherish the good and work through the bad to the best of your ability. People say, “Know that you are never alone”; I think I’ve even written that in past writing projects of mine, but I’ve recently realized that this sentiment is not always true. Sometimes, we are alone. Completely. Actually, I wish that weren’t the case, but it is sometimes, and it’s one of the worst feelings in the world. Loneliness has the power to make us stronger in certain capacities—but it also has the power to break us. That’s what this piece is about.