Gemotions

The house had always been a cage, even when she was a child. Seeing the listing, a new iteration of that cage, triggered a deep-seated anxiety. She ran her hands through her hair, a gesture of helplessness.

She was in her tiny, rented room. The walls felt like they were pressing inwards. The air tasted stale. She wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else, but the prospect of moving, of leaving, was an insurmountable obstacle.

She stared out the window. The world outside, vibrant and bustling, seemed to mock her inertia. She couldn't breathe. Her chest felt constricted, her limbs heavy. Her heart pounded in her ears.