Gemotions

The hall swam before her eyes, a blur of faces and flashing lights. Her father, resplendent in a new suit, was waving at her, beaming. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. Instead, she took a deep breath and walked to the podium.

Her hands shook as she reached for the microphone, and the metal felt cold against her clammy palms. She wished she had never been asked to speak. How could she possibly feign joy? How could she possibly say anything positive about a life she saw as a waste?

She thought of her own aspirations, her own dreams that had been steadily crushed under the weight of expectations. She felt the familiar sting of betrayal. She had tried to explain her choices, her career paths, but all she had been met with was disapproval.

"Congratulations, Dad," she began, the words sounding hollow in her ears. She forced a smile, her jaw tight, a muscle twitching in her cheek. She was barely able to speak. The room started to close in on her. She had to get through this.