Gemotions

The silence in the car was killing her. Her parents, bless their hearts, were trying, asking questions about her favorite music and how she was feeling. But the questions felt like traps. Every answer felt inadequate.

She stared out the window, watching the familiar scenery blur past. The houses, the trees, the streets – they all seemed to mock her, silent witnesses to her perceived failures.

When they arrived at the house, she bolted inside, claiming she needed to “unpack”. The familiar scent of her childhood bedroom offered a small measure of comfort, but the weight of the situation followed her, a constant, heavy presence.