Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest in my chest. "Just think of the possibilities, Liam," my brother, Ben, was saying, the silver locket clutched in his hand. “A new car, a down payment on a house…" His words seemed to bounce off me, leaving no impression. I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the persistent thrumming there. The ancestral locket, passed down through generations, represented my connection to something solid, something real. The idea of letting it go, bartering away history for convenience, felt like a physical wrench. I felt leaden, slow, the world around me moving far too fast. "I need to lie down," I mumbled, the words a weary exhalation.