Gemotions

A cold dread settled in Amelia's stomach the moment she read the letter. It detailed a treatment plan she never remembered receiving, for a condition she didn't recall having. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. She reread the document, her gaze darting from line to line, her breath hitching. The official letterhead seemed to mock her, a stark reminder of the authority it represented.

She immediately grabbed her phone, her fingers fumbling over the numbers of the hospital's patient records department. The polite voice on the other end felt distant, canned. Every word felt rehearsed, devoid of genuine concern. As she explained the discrepancies, a strange prickling sensation crawled across her skin.

Later, she found herself staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes appeared wide, almost frightened, and a knot of unease twisted in her gut. She’d always trusted her doctors, always believed in the system. But now? A deep sense of apprehension consumed her. She ran her hands down her arms, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the room.