Gemotions

She woke up to the smell of coffee, something her roommate, Maya, never made. A tiny, cold hand of dread wrapped around her heart. The blinds were open, letting in too much light. She always kept them closed.

Pushing herself up, she glanced at her bedside table. Her journal was lying open, displaying a page she knew she'd never reached. Her fingers went cold. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Maya?” she called, her voice tight, straining to sound casual. The door to the common room was ajar. She found Maya engrossed in a textbook, humming softly. The textbook, one that was not related to her major.