Gemotions

The tiny, sequined clutch in her hand felt like a life raft. She clutched it fiercely, her knuckles white. The room was a symphony of forced merriment, and she was the conductor of its silent anxiety. She hated being the center of attention. She preferred to blend into the wallpaper, to observe quietly. She wished she was anywhere else.

The air conditioning seemed to have failed. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. She dabbed at it with a tissue, feeling the dampness spread. She looked at her parents. They looked so happy. This was supposed to be a celebration.

"Um… hi, everyone," she managed, her voice barely audible. A few people clapped politely. She winced.