Gemotions

The meticulously organized desk in the study felt like a prison. Sarah surveyed the scene: neatly stacked folders, each meticulously labeled with her name and grade level. Her mother had preserved every essay, every test, every single drawing. The sheer scope of it all was overwhelming.

She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the strands. The neatly typed comments on a particularly dreadful science report filled her with a sense of unease. “Excellent effort, Sarah!” The words felt more like a judgment than a compliment.

She threw herself back in her chair, a sigh escaping her lips. The air around her suddenly felt thick and heavy. She hated being around all of this stuff.