Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, mimicking the way her thoughts battered her. Amelia sat huddled on the couch, the blanket pulled so tightly around her it felt like a cage. The rhythmic drumming on the roof was a soundtrack to her misery.

Then the knock. A sharp, insistent rap on the door. It was Mr. Henderson from next door, his face a mask of annoyance. "The noise," he said, his voice curt. "It's been constant. The late-night movie marathons, they're disturbing my sleep."

She swallowed hard, the muscles in her throat refusing to work properly. "I... I'll turn it down," she managed, her voice barely a whisper. Back inside, the silence felt even heavier, a suffocating blanket woven from her own apathy.