Gemotions

A tremor ran through Amelia’s body as she reviewed the documents. It wasn’t her blood type. Not her allergies. Not her family history. She felt her breath hitch in her throat, a trapped, panicked gasp. Her pulse hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden, crushing weight in her chest.

She blinked, trying to clear her vision. The sterile white of the hospital room seemed to constrict, the fluorescent lights buzzing menacingly. She traced the unfamiliar signature at the bottom of the page, her fingers trembling. Each line of the alien medical record was a blow, a denial of the life she knew. She felt a profound sense of wrongness, a fundamental dislocation from herself.