Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the art studio felt muted to Sarah. She sat huddled in the corner, her fingers tracing the rough edges of a piece of clay. The cool, damp texture did little to soothe the tightness in her chest. The other students chatted and laughed, but she couldn't muster even a small smile.

It was almost surreal, sitting here, reliving her childhood trauma and feeling powerless. Her friend had convinced her to try this art therapy, claiming it would help her process her feelings. But she hadn't known that Dr. Brenda would be the instructor.

The memory of the schoolyard whispers, the snide comments, the feeling of being completely alone, returned with full force. A bitter taste coated her tongue.