Gemotions

The chipped porcelain doll, its painted eyes staring blankly ahead, seemed to accuse Emily. Her grandmother, frail and dependent, needed to sell it to pay for medical bills. Emily felt a hollow ache in her gut. She’d spent countless hours as a child, lost in imaginative games with the doll. The memories, once comforting, now felt like a cruel joke.

She chewed at her lip, her fingers tracing the cracks in the doll’s face. The room felt stifling. Her breaths came in shallow gasps. She had a sudden, overwhelming urge to shatter something, to destroy the thing that represented her powerlessness.

She quickly walked towards the door, desperate to run.