Gemotions

The smell of incense, a scent that used to be associated with pleasant memories of visiting her grandmother, now made her skin crawl. The house, once a haven of comfortable routines, now felt alien, the furniture somehow rearranged to mock her. Her brother, Mark, beamed at her, explaining the intricacies of his new faith. She nodded along, forcing a smile that felt brittle, like spun glass. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, pulling at the threads until they frayed. The joy on Mark's face was a constant, searing light; a stark contrast to the darkness that had settled deep within her.