Behind the Door: Spec-Fic

"You came here 18 hours ago," the door guard said, frowning down at her. "Once a day. No exceptions." "You don't understand," she said, thrusting out her arm to keep the door from shutting. "It's not for me. It's for my daughter. She doesn't understand, but she's about to give up and just go under." The door guard hesitated. "She told you this?" "No, of course she didn't! She told me that she needed me to be out of the house for two hours so she and her boyfriend could go all the way. And then she mentioned that she wasn't going back to school, that she'd found a job at a store. And then she said she was moving into my basement." The door guard pondered. "I guess that does sound like she's giving up, but you know the rules. She has to--

Inspiration: Being told I couldn't play a game because I had 18 hours ago.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: Oh, but what's behind door number 2? A glimpse into the future. An artificial motivation. Just a high to make her forget it all? Something drained from the hopeless? Hmm...engines of despair.