Gemotions

I sat across from him, my stepfather, trying to maintain a semblance of control. He had just revealed he was becoming a Wiccan. A *Wiccan*.

My jaw clenched. I wanted to explode, to scream at him for disrespecting my mother's memory, for desecrating the home she had loved.

“You’re… you’re just doing this to get attention,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. The words felt weak, pathetic.

He smiled, a patronizing smile. He didn't understand. He'd never understand. I pushed back my chair, scraping it across the floor with a screech. The sound echoed in the room. I stood, staring at him, and then I just walked away.