Gemotions

Rain hammered against the attic window as Amelia paced the dusty floorboards. The air was thick, stale with forgotten things. Every few steps, she’d run a hand through her tangled hair, a nervous habit that had plagued her since childhood. Sunlight rarely touched this space, and the gloom pressed in, a suffocating weight. She’d been up here for hours, sifting through boxes of her grandmother’s things, searching for – she wasn't quite sure what. A sense of unease, a jittery energy, vibrated through her. Then, a slim envelope, tucked inside a chipped porcelain doll's box, caught her eye. It bore her name, written in a familiar, shaky hand.