Gemotions

"Ugh," Clara muttered, pulling the covers over her head, though the din of the construction next door seeped through the thick fabric. She hadn’t slept well in weeks. Each day bled into the next, a continuous blur of sameness. She dreaded the thought of getting up, of facing the sun and the responsibility of… well, of everything.

The air felt thick, heavy with an inexplicable burden. The rhythmic hammering became an angry pulse against her skull. She wanted to scream, to shatter something, to break the monotony. But instead, she just burrowed deeper, pulling the comforter up around her until she was swallowed in the darkness, the world outside fading into a distant hum.