Gemotions

The attic felt like the inside of a forgotten memory, a place where time didn't exist. She ran her hand along the dusty surface of a trunk, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings. She wanted to know what was inside. But the lock was rusted shut.

She knelt down and tried to force it open. It wouldn't budge. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she felt a frantic urgency to find it. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her head pounded. She felt as though she was being pulled in multiple directions at once.

The attic seemed to close in around her, the air growing thick and heavy. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to catch her breath. When she opened them again, the room had shifted, rearranged itself. She felt a surge of panic, a desperate need to escape. Where was the door?