Gemotions

A wave of icy fury washed over her. She knew, she knew. Her journal was out of place. Her roommate, Olivia, was whistling innocently, as if nothing had happened. A fire began to smolder in her chest, consuming her.

She meticulously started to organize everything in the room, moving things with deliberate slowness and making sure that every item was exactly in its place. She created a rigid order, a visual representation of her internal struggle. She would say nothing. But she would make Olivia understand.