Gemotions

The news broke at dinner. Her family, usually a boisterous bunch, fell silent as her mother read aloud from a review. "A captivating portrayal..." "A life laid bare..." It was her life. Or, rather, a manufactured version of it. I felt the blood drain from my face.

My fork clattered to the plate. The roasted chicken suddenly looked unappetizing. My sister, bless her heart, tried to change the subject, but the damage was done. Every glance, every carefully worded question, felt like a dissection.

I excused myself and retreated to my room. The walls seemed to press in, the familiar objects now mocking me. My hands fumbled with the clasp of the necklace I always wore, finally tearing it from my neck and tossing it onto the dresser. I felt suffocated.