Gemotions

"Why?" I muttered, staring at the neatly arranged piles of my old schoolwork. My mom, a woman of few words, had meticulously preserved everything. Every single assignment. The tiny, perfect handwriting on my book reports, the crayon drawings from kindergarten… It felt like a betrayal of privacy.

A wave of dizziness overtook me. I hated feeling this fragile, this easily brought low.

I pushed away from the box, bumping into a chair, the noise echoing through the room. I needed to escape. I fumbled for the door, my hands trembling, my breath caught in my throat.