Gemotions

The unpacked boxes sat in the corner of the living room, a constant reminder of her unsettled state. She avoided looking at them, their presence amplifying her anxiety. The house, usually a place of familiarity and comfort, felt like a labyrinth of hidden traps.

The sound of her father’s footsteps on the stairs caused her to jump, her heart leaping into her throat. She tensed, bracing herself for the inevitable conversation, the unspoken questions she couldn’t answer.

She found herself biting her lip, a nervous habit that had resurfaced. The walls seemed to close in, the air growing heavy. A cold sweat beaded on her forehead. The ground beneath her feet felt unstable, like she was standing on shifting sand.