Gemotions

The envelope, crisp and official, lay on the doormat. Maya didn’t need to open it; she already knew. Her stomach lurched. The reality of it slammed into her. A knot formed in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She never managed things on her own. She was lost without them.

The apartment, once filled with her things, felt hollow. The sunlight pouring through the windows seemed mocking in its brightness. Every single object, once a source of comfort, now represented her failure. She didn't deserve it.

She sank into the worn armchair, the fabric cool against her skin. She closed her eyes. She wanted someone to tell her it was going to be alright. Someone to take charge. She wished she could be comforted like a child. The tears began to fall.