Gemotions

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the empty living room. Olivia, her face etched with a familiar tension, ran a hand through her hair. The boxes had been in the house for weeks, but she had avoided them. Until now.

She forced herself to open the first one. It was a treasure trove of her childhood misadventures. Every school play script, every poorly written poem, every single drawing she'd ever created.

She let out a frustrated grunt and kicked at a nearby chair. The wood hit the wall with a loud thud. The feeling inside her was explosive. She was tired of all of it. Tired of the memories. Tired of the house.