Gemotions

The wind howled outside, mirroring the turmoil inside Amelia. She stared at the peeling wallpaper in the hallway, suddenly seeing it not as a cosmetic flaw but as a shroud. The house, once a source of pride, now felt tainted. She found herself rearranging furniture obsessively, as if she could alter the history by shifting the physical space. Amelia avoided her reflection in the mirrors, unable to meet her own gaze, as if the knowledge of the past had somehow stained her. Dinner remained uneaten on the table and the plants were all dead. The silence of the house had become oppressive, thick with an unspoken sorrow.