What is wrong with you, woman?

Cathleen's heels clacked a sharp beat as she burst into the restroom, her breath hitching in her chest. The air was sterile, untouched by life. Stall doors stood open under harsh fluorescent lights, revealing emptiness and silence. No rustle of clothing, no sign of occupancy. Alone.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, matching the chaos inside her. Why here? Why now? Unanswered questions pounded in her head as her hand, almost moving on its own, slipped beneath her dress for release against the heat that was burning her kitty and her skin.

The cold tile met her back as she stumbled into the nearest stall, the lock clicking sharply in the silence. This porcelain refuge offered no solace; the walls seemed to press closer, whispering about vulnerability.

Perched on the toilet seat, its chill contrasting with the heat between her thighs, a silent plea guided her fingers past dampened fabric into hidden desires born from confusion and longing.

"Pull yourself together, Cathleen," she mutte