Gemotions

The wallpaper peeled like sunburnt skin in the living room, and Chloe ran her hand along the cold, cracked plaster. Her grandmother's presence, usually comforting, felt suffocating. Her brother, Mark, was still outside, taking photos.

She bit her lip, the taste of metal flooding her mouth. The sheer emptiness of the space made her skin crawl. Furniture covered in white sheets. Dust motes dancing in the sunlight streaming through the grimy windows. She was responsible for all of it.

"Mark!" she called, her voice thin and reedy. "Come inside. Let's… let's just go." She pictured the bills, the arguments, the inevitable resentment. She hated this feeling, this knot in her stomach.