Gemotions

The package was small, unassuming, yet it held a weight that threatened to crush Amelia. "To Mr. Thomas Ashton." Another ghost. Thomas Ashton, who had filled the apartment with his loud laughter and his even louder secrets. Amelia ran her hand through her hair, a nervous gesture she'd adopted recently.

The building felt different now. The walls felt like they were closing in. Her breathing grew more labored.

The silence was even worse than the noise of the city, which was ever-present. She wanted to scream.

She tried to push it aside, but it remained there, a nagging presence in her peripheral vision.

She sat and stared at it for hours.