Gemotions

I walked into the house, and it felt like walking into a ghost. The air was stale, still. I ran my hand along the wallpaper, the pattern faded and cracked. My throat felt tight.

The living room, once filled with furniture and laughter, was now an empty shell. I felt a cold dread creeping into my bones. Every step felt heavy, each creak of the floorboards echoed in the vast emptiness.

I remembered the countless hours I had spent here, playing with my siblings, hiding in the closets, and reading under the stairs. All those moments, now confined to memory. My chest ached with an unfamiliar pressure. The thought of this place being torn down was unbearable.