Gemotions

Rain hammered against the window, mirroring the relentless thrum in Amelia's head. She stared at the floral wallpaper in her childhood bedroom, a pattern she'd despised since she was seven. Her phone lay face down on the nightstand, untouched. The silence in the house, broken only by the downpour and her mother’s cheerful humming from downstairs, felt oppressive.

Amelia dragged herself out of bed. The floorboards creaked under her weight, each groan a small complaint. She pulled on the oversized hoodie she'd stolen from her brother and shuffled toward the bathroom. The mirror reflected a stranger: a woman with puffy eyes and a slack jaw.

Her mother called from the foot of the stairs, "Breakfast is ready, dear!" Amelia grunted in response, the sound catching in her throat like a wad of cotton. The aroma of bacon, a scent that once comforted her, now felt like an unwelcome intrusion.