Gemotions

She found it while digging in the garden, a heavy, iron chest she didn't recognize. The shovel struck something hard, a muffled thud. She brushed away the damp earth, revealing a tarnished metal box. The sun beat down, but a coldness emanated from the buried treasure. Her hands trembled as she pried it open. Inside, alongside a collection of childhood trinkets, was a collection of letters.

They were written in her childish scrawl, each one addressed to her future self. The first, detailing her dreams of becoming an astronaut, made her flinch. The last, however, described a life of crushing isolation, filled with crushing silence. The words seemed to seep into her skin, leaving a chill that the sun couldn't chase away.

She dropped the letters, the pages scattering in the dirt. Her throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe. The vibrant garden, which had once filled her with joy, now seemed to mock her with its beauty. The letters felt like a curse, a prophecy she couldn't escape. Her vision blurred, and she knew she was going to be sick.