Gemotions

The elegant setting, the sparkling crystal, the hushed anticipation—it all contributed to the feeling of impending doom. Clara fiddled with the strap of her purse, a nervous habit she hadn't realized she still had. Her mouth felt like parchment, and her throat constricted with every passing moment.

She saw her mother, her eyes bright and filled with pride, and a fresh wave of panic washed over her. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, but the air felt thin and difficult to draw.

She felt like a deer caught in headlights, unable to move, unable to speak, trapped in a moment of pure, unadulterated self-consciousness. The thought of standing up, of being the center of attention, threatened to overwhelm her.