Gemotions

"Get out," Maya spat, her voice tight, a constricted sound. Her mother stood in the doorway, her face etched with a familiar mixture of guilt and apology. "Just get out!" The words felt inadequate, a pathetic attempt to express the tempest raging within her. The carefully curated order of her life, the one she’d painstakingly built, felt like it was crumbling around her. She wanted to shatter something, anything. The crystal vase on the side table seemed like a good target. She turned her back on her mother, the image of a smiling, unknown girl burned into her mind's eye.