Layla Rose

I remember picking up a gold chain from my father’s jewelry box. For gold, it felt so delicate, and although small and light, I could feel that it held the weight of the world. “Can I have this?” I asked my dad, and he said yes without hesitation. He

Dark. Dizzy. Nauseous. I’m spinning. Wait, no, it’s not me, it’s the room. The room is spinning. “Emma! Emma! Can you hear me?” I blink and blink to clear my head. Nothing. It’s two days later, I’m at the doctor’s office; “follow this pen