Gemotions

The waiting room felt like a pressure cooker. Amelia fidgeted, smoothing the crease in her already pristine skirt. The floral wallpaper swam before her eyes. Each tick of the clock on the wall echoed in her ears, a constant reminder of the unseen doctor. This whole mess was just absurd.

Finally, her name was called. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she walked down the sterile hallway. The doctor’s face, etched with a practiced neutrality, barely registered her arrival. Instead of the usual routine, she was met with a grave look and a folder that was definitely not hers.

“There seems to have been an administrative error,” the doctor began, his voice flat. He pointed to a scan. "This is not your chart." The image revealed something monstrous, a shadow that didn't belong to her history, a disease she'd never heard of. Her hands began to tremble.