Gemotions

The air conditioning hummed, a dull background noise to the growing tension in Beth. Across the conference table, Kevin, her new project partner, was talking about a team-building exercise. He'd mentioned that he went to summer camp, and then, as if by accident, he casually remarked "Camp Hemlock." Beth felt a sudden tightness in her chest.

She forced herself to maintain eye contact, but her vision blurred slightly. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to pulsate, their brightness overwhelming. She needed to escape, to breathe, to be alone. Her throat felt constricted.

She offered a weak smile, but she felt as if she were trapped, a prisoner in a room slowly closing in. Each word Kevin uttered intensified the unease within her, twisting the knife of memory.