Gemotions

The spare bedroom was like a time capsule. Pictures of a younger her, smiling and bright-eyed, plastered the walls. The posters she’d painstakingly put up as a teenager now felt ridiculous and childish. She hadn't expected to be back here, ever.

Her mother kept checking in on her, bringing in tea, offering to do her laundry, constantly hovering. Each act of kindness felt like a barbed reminder of her current state. She felt like a child again, reliant and helpless.

She found herself avoiding eye contact, retreating into her phone, pretending to be busy. The walls seemed to close in on her, making her claustrophobic. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make them understand. She couldn't, though. The words caught in her throat, strangled by a wave of embarrassment that nearly choked her.