Gemotions

The roses were a dark, deep red, almost black. They lay on the doorstep, a silent announcement. From the moment I saw them, I couldn't breathe properly.

I snatched them up, then slammed the door. My hands were clammy. My mind raced, trying to figure out who would send me flowers anonymously.

I barricaded myself in the bedroom. I felt trapped, hunted. The world outside, once familiar, now seemed to press in on me, threatening to swallow me whole. I locked the door, and then the window, too.