Gemotions

The radio blared from the kitchen, a cheerful morning show. Sarah was making toast, humming along to whatever sugary pop tune was playing. Then, a familiar intro. Her intro.

She froze. The toaster popped, a lonely sound in the sudden silence of her mind. Her hand instinctively flew to her throat, as if to protect something precious. Her cheeks burned.

The song was her song. But it was… polished. The singer’s voice was technically superior, every note perfect. Sarah stared at the radio, a growing feeling of unease spreading through her. Every single note stung. Why wasn’t she the one singing it? Why did the performance make her want to shatter the radio with a hammer?