Gemotions

Clara stared at the neat stacks of paper. Her mother's handwriting, graceful and familiar, filled the margins. She felt a cold dread creeping through her, a hollowness that seemed to swallow her whole. The collection was a stark monument to her childhood, to the constant striving, the impossible expectations.

She’d thought she’d outgrown it. Now, seeing every graded quiz, every carefully worded essay, she felt the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. She sat on the floor, the papers a physical weight pressing down on her. She felt trapped, like a bug pinned under glass.