Gemotions

She stared at the overflowing trash can, the crumpled doctor’s bill peeking out from the top. Amelia felt a cold, unwelcome pressure in her chest, like a lead weight. The mix-up meant she’d endured weeks of invasive, pointless treatments. The chemo sessions had left her weak, her hair falling out in clumps. It was all for someone else. Her healthy cells had been needlessly assaulted. The unfairness of it clawed at her, a constant, irritating itch she couldn't scratch. She picked up the bill, her hands trembling, and tore it in half. Then again. She should be joyous, she knew, but a heavy silence had settled over her, a desolate landscape.