Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital room seemed to amplify the silence. Maya sat beside her brother’s bed, her fingers intertwined, her eyes fixed on the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. He was recovering, slowly, from a near-fatal accident. The weight of worry had become a familiar presence, a shadow she carried everywhere. She felt exhausted, depleted, but she had to stay strong.

She’d been avoiding social media, but she’d cracked. A notification. A picture. On a stranger’s arm, a perfect copy of her brother's mural, "Hope's Ascent," a symbol of his will to live. It was splashed across their Instagram feed, tagged with a generic caption. She felt a burning sensation in her stomach. She hadn't felt the sting of anger in a long time. She felt a surge of rage she couldn't explain. She wanted to scream.