Gemotions

"Turn it down!" I yelled, my voice cracking with disuse. The music continued, a relentless assault on my eardrums. I slumped back against the door, feeling the wood vibrate with each beat. My hand trembled as I lifted it to knock again.

The last time I'd spoken to someone was at the grocery store. The cashier had asked how I was, and I’d just mumbled a reply. I always did. What else was there to say?

My apartment was a sterile, organized testament to a life lived alone. Every item had its place, every surface was dust-free. The emptiness, however, seeped into everything, a cold, silent echo. The music next door was the only thing making noise besides my own thoughts.