Gemotions

"Decline," Maria typed, her fingers trembling. The message from Jessica Miller, a name that could still evoke shivers, sat in a small box on her screen. She'd been staring at it for fifteen minutes, fighting back tears. Her attempts to make contact with anyone had failed.

She had been avoiding human contact for weeks, convinced she was unworthy of connection. The apartment was a disaster, a reflection of the chaos in her mind. Her artwork lay gathering dust in the corner, a testament to her lost creative energy.

She felt a hollowness inside, a vast and empty space where hope used to reside. She needed a drink.