Gemotions

The amplified music. The incessant thrumming bass. It was coming from the apartment upstairs, a constant, throbbing pulse that vibrated through the floorboards. Clara felt her teeth grit.

She sat up in bed, a cold sweat breaking out on her skin. She had pleaded with them before. She tried to tell herself to be rational. But the sound was a physical assault.

She imagined the people upstairs, laughing, oblivious. She got out of bed and started to pace, her hands clenched. She felt a burning need to stop it. She would do whatever it took.