Gemotions

The key scraped in the lock, a sound that sliced through the pre-dawn stillness. Her fingers, slick with perspiration, fumbled with the knob. Inside, the house breathed a familiar, yet suffocating, scent of potpourri and old wood. She hesitated at the threshold, the bag slung over her shoulder feeling heavier than it should. Each floorboard creaked a warning as she crept towards her old room, the hallway seeming to narrow with every step.

“Sarah?” A voice, thick with sleep, rumbled from the living room. She jumped, her breath hitching in her chest.

"Just me, Mom," she croaked, forcing a smile that felt brittle. The light from the hallway seemed to mock her as she met her mother's questioning gaze.