Gemotions

The cursor on the laptop screen seemed to mock Amelia. It blinked, a tiny, digital eye winking at the listing of 42 Willow Creek Lane. Her childhood home. She scrolled through the photographs, each one a fresh stab of… something. The living room, bathed in sunlight – the same sunlight that had illuminated countless board game nights and Christmas mornings. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold the mouse.

She slammed the laptop shut. The click echoed in the quiet apartment, a sound that seemed to amplify the hollow ache in her chest. She got up, pacing the small space. Each step felt heavy, like she was wading through molasses. Grabbing her coat, she left, needing the cold air to… what? To clear her head? To escape the suffocating memories?

The grocery store was brightly lit, the chatter of other shoppers a grating noise against the silence inside her. She stared blankly at the cereal aisle, unable to remember what she had come for. Her throat felt tight, and a burning sensation started in her eyes. Abandoning her cart, she fled outside, the biting wind doing nothing to ease the pressure building in her skull.