Gemotions

The conference room felt like a cage, the overhead lights reflecting off the sterile white walls. Evelyn could feel the eyes of the assembled specialists drilling into her. “Fascinating,” the lead researcher murmured, his gaze traveling over her. Evelyn shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

She could tell they were dissecting her, analyzing her as if she were a dissected frog. They didn’t see her; they saw the condition. They didn’t care about her feelings, her life, or her pain. She was only an example, a puzzle to solve.

The researcher then began to outline his proposed treatment plan. He did not ask for her consent, but acted as if she were an unwilling subject. Evelyn slowly began to unclench her fists as she looked at him, her body rigid.