Gemotions

The invitation felt heavy in Elara’s hand, a stark white rectangle mocking her. She’d been clinging to the anticipation of tonight, of the laughter and the lights, the feeling of being celebrated. Now, it was just a flimsy piece of paper, a testament to a broken promise. She crumpled it slowly, the corners folding inward like her own chest.

A tremor ran through her. Her apartment felt colder than usual, the sunlight outside struggling to penetrate the grimy window. She sank onto the worn sofa, the springs protesting under her weight. The silence of the apartment was deafening, a vacuum that sucked the air from her lungs.

She imagined the balloons, the cake, the friends she’d been yearning to see. Now, just emptiness. She hadn't left the house in days, and now she felt as if there was no reason to. Elara buried her face in her hands, the rough fabric of her jeans a poor substitute for comfort. She thought of her mother, and the familiar ache in her heart intensified.