Gemotions

The television blared from the living room. "Turn it down!" Sarah yelled, her voice echoing from the bedroom. Her father, bless him, had the volume on a level that would make her ears bleed. It was always the same. He didn't understand her need for quiet. He did not understand *anything* about her.

She grabbed her phone and scrolled through apartment listings. Anything, even a cramped studio, would be better than this. The house felt like a prison cell, and her parents were the well-meaning, but utterly clueless, wardens. The incessant noise, the lack of privacy, the feeling of being suffocated - it all was more than she could handle.