Gemotions

The first thing she saw was the framed photo of her graduation. Seventeen years old. Smiling, optimistic, full of potential. A hollow laugh escaped her. It felt like a deliberate taunt.

Her mother's voice, overly bright, came from the kitchen. "Did you see your old room, honey? I put your favorite quilt on the bed!" The quilt. A fluffy, pink monstrosity. She wanted to throw it out the window.

She forced a smile, the muscles in her face aching. "It's… cozy, Mom." A lie. A huge, suffocating lie.