Gemotions

The doctor’s office felt too bright, the fluorescent lights buzzing a hateful song. Amelia clutched the manila folder tighter, the paper edges biting into her palms. The receptionist’s cheerful farewell echoed in her ears, grating like nails on a chalkboard. She stumbled out, blinking against the sunshine that suddenly seemed aggressive, invasive. A deep tremor had taken root in her chest, a physical shaking she couldn't control.

She sat in her car, the engine cold against the sudden heat prickling her skin. The file, bearing her name, held someone else's life. Someone else’s history of medications, surgeries, and… well, something she didn’t want to read. Images flooded her mind: shadowy figures performing procedures she knew nothing about. She slammed the folder shut, the snap echoing like a gunshot.

Her breathing hitched, shallow and rapid. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, the screen smudged with fingerprints. She wanted to call someone, anyone, but the list of contacts blurred before her eyes. It was a joke, right? A cruel, cosmic practical joke.