Gemotions

The apartment was suffocating, even with the windows wide open. Sarah paced, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. Her father’s footsteps echoed from the kitchen where he was cooking, the rhythmic chop of the knife the only sound besides the ragged breaths that escaped her. It was too loud. Everything was too loud.

Her palms prickled with sweat. She kept running her hands through her hair, a frantic gesture she couldn't seem to control. She picked up a framed photo of her and her parents from the mantelpiece and clutched it so tightly she could feel the edges digging into her skin.

"Dinner's almost ready, love," her dad said, his voice quiet. She dropped the picture back down with a sudden clatter. "Coming," she replied, her voice sounding thin.