Gemotions

The doctor’s sterile office felt even colder after the news. Amelia stared at the file, the name at the top a stranger’s. Her stomach churned. This wasn't her life; it was someone else's, filled with medications she'd never needed, a diagnosis that didn't belong to her. She felt a profound disconnect, as if the ground had shifted beneath her.

Amelia’s apartment was dark, the curtains drawn. She hadn't eaten all day. The takeout containers from last week sat on the coffee table, a testament to her inertia. Her reflection in the dusty mirror seemed unfamiliar, a ghost of a person. She picked at a loose thread on her jeans, her fingers trembling.

Sleep wouldn't come. Hours later, the city lights outside her window blurred into indistinct blobs of color. A crushing weight settled on her chest, making it hard to breathe. The world felt muffled, distant, and the future stretched before her, an empty canvas.