Gemotions

The wallpaper in her old room seemed to shift and writhe in her peripheral vision. Clara’s stomach twisted with dread. The move back had been a forced march back to the starting line.

She found herself avoiding the family, locking herself away for hours. The house’s familiar smells, the scent of her mother's cooking, the laundry detergent, made her stomach churn. The quiet felt menacing.

She'd take to running, pounding the pavement until her legs ached, hoping to exhaust herself into a state of peace. But the fear always returned, a cold weight in the back of her mind.