Gemotions

The wind howled outside, mirroring the storm brewing inside her. Anya, eyes bloodshot, stared at the collection. She never knew her mother was so concerned. There were so many assignments, spanning from the early years to the brink of adulthood. Even a few pages of a diary she'd scribbled in, detailing teenage anxieties.

She balled her hands into fists, her knuckles turning white. The words on the page blurred. She'd tried so hard to be perfect. Why did she feel so inadequate? The world spun for a moment. She felt the tears welling up, and forced herself to swallow them. The air around her felt stifling.