Gemotions

The scent of cinnamon and sugar hung in the air of the bakery, a scent usually associated with comfort, but today, she found it nauseating. "The cake was delicious, wasn't it?" Emily asked, a soft smile on her face. "The best we ever had!"

The cake. The birthday cake. It had been burnt, a charcoal monstrosity. She remembered crying, embarrassed and humiliated.

Her stomach churned. A headache was forming behind her eyes. Emily's version was so sweet, so positive. It felt like she was trapped in a funhouse mirror, where every reflection was distorted and twisted. She wanted to run, to escape the sickening sweetness of the moment.