Gemotions

The air in the break room felt thick, heavy with the scent of stale coffee and unspoken questions. Across the table, Emily was animatedly describing her summer at "Camp Skylark," a summer camp she loved.

I found myself struggling to breathe. The details – the rickety wooden cabins, the peculiar rules, the nightly sing-alongs – were all too familiar. A sense of disquiet settled over me, a feeling that something was profoundly off. The room started to spin.

"Skylark?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Emily paused. "Yeah, what's wrong? You look pale."

I just stared at her, my mind reeling. My eyes stung with unshed tears.