Gemotions

"I'm joining the Church of Scientology," my brother declared, his eyes shining with zeal. I almost choked on my coffee. This felt like a practical joke. He’d always been the pragmatic one, the voice of reason. Now this.

He started rattling off beliefs, outlining courses and auditing sessions. My fingers clenched around the ceramic mug, the heat a small comfort. My back stiffened. I couldn't understand the sudden change.

"It's about self-improvement," he continued, oblivious to the silence that had fallen over the room. I took a deep breath, forcing a smile. It felt heavy, plastered onto my face.

Later, I locked myself in the bathroom and glared at my reflection. Why was I so bothered? It wasn't my life. But the tightness in my chest wouldn't loosen.