Gemotions

The weight in her chest felt like a lead brick. She sat on the porch swing, watching the neighbors’ children play in the cul-de-sac. Their laughter, sharp and clear, cut through the quiet afternoon like a knife. She closed her eyes, the sun warm on her face, and still felt cold.

Her mother brought her a glass of iced tea, her smile unwavering. "Are you feeling any better, honey?" The concern in her mother’s voice was suffocating. She took the glass, her fingers brushing against her mother's, and mumbled a curt, "Fine."

Later, she found herself staring at the framed photographs on the living room wall. Pictures of happier times. Vacations, birthdays, graduations. Each image a reminder of what she had lost.