Gemotions

The package was small, but it felt heavy. "For: Desmond Cole." The name, a name she'd scrubbed from her life, mocked her. She was cold, so cold. She was shivering, even though the sun was blazing through the window.

She ripped it open in the kitchen, her movements jerky and uncontrolled. Inside, a music box. The melody, when she wound it, was a familiar tune. She needed air, she couldn't breathe, a choking sensation constricted her throat.

She slammed her fist down on the box, shattering the delicate porcelain figure inside. The sound was surprisingly loud, and she began to sob, the tears flowing freely down her face. She felt as though she could never stop.