Gemotions

The listing appeared on the screen, a beacon of… annoyance. That’s what it was. Amelia felt a heat prickle beneath her skin. The house. Her childhood home, now owned by someone else. The photos seemed to mock her.

The description used words like "updated" and "modern," implying an improvement. But the reality, she knew, was a hollow victory. The vibrant colours of her childhood bedroom were gone, replaced with bland neutrals. The oak tree she had climbed every summer, it was gone, too.

Amelia’s lower lip trembled. She wanted to scream. She wished she could go back to the years where life had been so simple. She clicked the screen off. The feeling in her chest wouldn't go away.