Gemotions

The cursor hovered over the "View Listing" button. A single bead of sweat trickled down Amelia's temple, tracing a path through the faint peach fuzz there. She’d been avoiding this moment for days, weeks even, ever since the email notification popped into her inbox. The listing. Her childhood home. She swallowed hard, the action catching in her throat, a physical manifestation of the knot twisting in her stomach.

She clicked. The photos loaded slowly, each one a fresh stab of… something. The living room, bathed in unfamiliar sunlight, devoid of the familiar clutter of her youth. The pristine white walls seemed to mock her.

A memory flashed: the time she’d painted a mural on that very wall, a swirling kaleidoscope of dragons and unicorns, a defiance against her parents’ wishes. A rebellious act that had ultimately been met with a quiet disappointment. It was all so very long ago.

The description mentioned a "spacious backyard." It was. A place where she used to spend hours, lost in imaginary worlds, ignoring her mother's calls to come in for dinner. Now, it was just… a backyard. Another person’s backyard. And she was a stranger.