Gemotions

"This isn't happening," I muttered, the words barely audible. The doctor, a woman with kind eyes and a professional demeanor, kept speaking, but her words blurred. My medical history, meticulously documented, was apparently a patchwork of someone else's life, a tapestry of ailments I’d never experienced. A cold dread seeped into my bones, making me feel frozen.

I stared at the pristine white walls of the examination room, a space that suddenly felt utterly alien. My hands were balled into fists, nails digging into my palms. I felt a surge of frustration, hot and immediate.

"I need to leave," I choked out, my voice raspy. The doctor's polite concern only served to exacerbate the feeling of being trapped. I just wanted to escape this surreal, awful situation.