Gemotions

The silence following the initial complaint was short-lived, replaced by a renewed assault of music. Amelia paced her cramped living room, the polished floorboards reflecting her increasingly agitated state. Her hands trembled as she clutched the phone, debating whether to call the building manager again.

She felt a hollowness in her stomach, a gnawing anxiety that refused to be quelled. The blood seemed to be racing in her ears. Each beat of the music seemed to amplify her apprehension, turning her into an echo chamber for all of the fear.

She bit her lip, the taste of blood a familiar comfort. She didn't know what to do. She considered and rethought all the options. She felt trapped.