Gemotions

The incessant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway was a relentless drumbeat against her sanity. The house felt too quiet, yet simultaneously suffocating. The silence was a threat.

She watched her parents at dinner, their easy laughter, their comfortable familiarity. It was a show, a play she wasn’t part of. She felt like an interloper.

Later, she found herself pacing her old bedroom, the small space feeling more and more like a tomb. She wanted to escape, to run, to disappear.