Gemotions

The silence of the house was punctuated only by the drip, drip, drip of a leaky faucet. She sat at the kitchen table, staring at the water stains that spiderwebbed across the ceiling. She’d promised her mother she would call the plumber.

Her mother's voice, laced with gentle concern, filtered through the closed door. "Everything alright, dear?" The inquiry, well-intentioned, added another layer to the wall she was building around herself. She couldn't face her right now.

She ran a hand through her hair, which felt tangled and heavy. The weight of her failure pressed down on her chest. She needed to do something, anything, but the simple act of lifting her arm seemed beyond her capabilities.