Gemotions

The email sat in Amelia’s inbox, a stark white rectangle against the muted gray. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of her apartment. *Ancestry Results Are In!* She'd clicked on it on a whim, curious about a vague sense of missing something in her life. Now, the glossy photographs on her mantelpiece seemed to leer, mocking her with their manufactured smiles. She walked over to the portrait, and her reflection stared back, unfamiliar. A coldness settled in her stomach, a lead weight.

She found herself wandering the city streets, aimlessly, as though searching for a map she’d lost. People brushed past her, their faces blurry and indistinct. She couldn’t shake the feeling of existing on the periphery of her own life, a ghost in her own narrative. Each passing moment felt like a paper cut, a constant, nagging irritation.

A sudden downpour drenched her, the water plastering her hair to her forehead. She didn't notice, didn't care. She just kept walking, the chill seeping into her bones, mirroring the growing emptiness inside her.