Gemotions

The library felt oppressive, the air heavy with unspoken secrets. The recollection of our school trip, the museum, the exhibits – was murky and unreliable. But the story Olivia shared was polished, convincing. I was the problem.

I hunched over the table, my gaze darting around the room. Every shadow, every movement, triggered a sense of unease. The hushed whispers of the other patrons felt like pointed comments. I could feel sweat beginning to bead on my forehead.

The silence of the library intensified the thrumming in my ears. I kept replaying their conversation in my mind, searching for clues, for inconsistencies. My heart pounded against my ribs. I had to leave, I could not endure being watched any longer.