Gemotions

The card was a lurid pink, plastered with glitter that seemed to mock the grey morning. Amelia snatched it from the mailbox, her fingers recoiling as if burned. She stumbled backward, bumping against the porch railing. Her breath hitched. A knot tightened in her stomach, a cold, clenching fist. She didn't recognize the handwriting, a shaky, looping script that filled the entire front. A birthday card. For her. But from whom?

She ripped it open, her movements jerky and frantic. The inside was blank, save for a single, crudely drawn smiley face that seemed to stare up at her with a vacant, knowing expression. A chill crawled up her spine, and she felt a desperate urge to run, to vanish. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden, unnerving silence of the street.