Gemotions

The garage was cold, the air smelling of oil and old tires. Emily surveyed the collection of boxes, the labels reading like a chronological list of her life. "Emily - High School English," she read aloud, her voice flat. She felt a prickling sensation on her skin.

She rifled through the contents, finding a crumpled essay on Shakespeare. The memory of her mother, meticulously editing her work, flashed before her eyes. Emily's hand tightened into a fist. She knew she'd never be good enough in her mother's eyes.

She kicked at a box, sending papers scattering across the concrete floor. Anger, a burning ember, flared in her chest. She wanted to burn everything, to erase the evidence, to be free from the shadow of her mother's expectations.