Gemotions

The doctor’s office felt too bright. Amelia kept clicking the pen she’d absentmindedly snatched from the front desk, the sound echoing in the sudden silence after the nurse’s pronouncement. Her fingers, usually steady, now fumbled with the plastic. She stared at the manila folder in her lap, the words "Amelia Harding" staring back at her, but the information… it was not hers. Heart problems. Multiple sclerosis. A lifetime of medication schedules that made no sense. A cold dread seeped into her bones, chilling her from the inside out. Her palms felt slick against the paper.

She tried to laugh, a shaky, unconvincing sound that died in her throat. "This… this is a mistake, right?" Her voice sounded thin, unfamiliar. The nurse, a woman with kind eyes and a tired smile, simply nodded, already reaching for the phone. Amelia felt the air thicken around her, a suffocating pressure. Her breath hitched. She had a marathon next month. How could this be her life?