Gemotions

The attic stairs groaned beneath Maya’s weight. She kept her head low, avoiding the cobwebs that clung to the low ceiling. Her brother, Ethan, was already halfway up, his laughter echoing in the dusty space. She lagged behind, feeling her breath catch in her throat. The thought that she was slow, that she always was, hammered at the back of her mind.

She reached the top and watched Ethan excitedly pull open a trunk, filled with forgotten trinkets. She bit the inside of her cheek. He always found the treasure, the fun. She never did.

"Look at this!" he yelled, holding up a tarnished silver locket. It was beautiful, and she felt a sharp pang of envy, instantly followed by a familiar feeling of disgust at herself for having that thought. She took a step back, suddenly feeling clumsy and out of place, even in the vastness of the attic.