Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening. I felt as if the blood had drained from my face, leaving me cold and numb. I clutched the notice in my hand, my knuckles white. Each word seemed to leap out at me, a personal attack.

My legs felt wobbly, as though they might buckle beneath me. I sank onto the floor, my back against the cold, hard wall. My breath came in short, shallow gasps. The walls of the room began to close in.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the reality of the situation. I needed to escape. I needed to run.