Gemotions

"Impossible," Clara whispered, the word barely audible. The email from Sarah lay open on her laptop screen, detailing the grand gala Sarah was throwing on Clara's birthday. A silent scream clawed at her throat. She had envisioned a quiet evening at home with her closest friends, making homemade pizzas and watching bad movies.

Clara’s jaw clenched, her hands clenching into fists. The bright, sunny image of the gala, with its dancing and fancy food, seemed to mock her. She felt a sudden, fierce urge to smash something.

Her vision blurred. This couldn't be happening. She ran a hand over her face, trying to clear her head. The silence of the apartment pressed in on her, suffocating. She grabbed her keys and ran outside, eager to escape the suffocating walls.