Gemotions

The sheer volume of the preparations was overwhelming. Decorations, seating arrangements, music playlists. It was all a frenzied, chaotic dance. And then, there was the speech. It hung over her like a dark cloud, a constant, nagging presence.

She found herself avoiding her mother, the woman she was supposed to celebrate. The thought of feigning affection, of reciting prepared platitudes, made her feel physically ill. She would fail. They all knew it.

She felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her side, like a tiny knife. She sat down abruptly, needing to breathe, needing to escape. The party was a trap, and she was already ensnared.