Gemotions

She stared at the ceiling, the cracks in the paint morphing into accusing faces. The loud music from the apartment below seemed to intensify the pressure in her head, a dull throb that mirrored the hollowness in her stomach. Every beat was a punch, each one a memory of the good times, the laughter, the shared dreams that had vanished like smoke.

Her fingers traced the outline of a photo frame on her nightstand, the image inside a vibrant smile that felt distant, unreachable. She hadn't left her bed all day, the covers pulled tight, a flimsy shield against the world. The music got louder. She wanted to yell, to tell them to stop.

She finally dragged herself out of bed, her limbs heavy, her energy gone. She shuffled to the door and opened it, just a crack, listening to the commotion below. A few voices seemed to mingle with the music. The sounds intensified her feeling of desolation. Closing the door, she sank back onto her bed, the thrumming music continuing its relentless assault.