Gemotions

A wave of nausea washed over Amelia as she stared at the mirror. Her reflection was a stranger, eyes wide and haunted. The lipstick she'd meticulously applied only served to highlight the tremors in her hands. Giving this speech was an awful sentence.

She'd spent the last week locked in her office, avoiding calls, ignoring emails. Her phone vibrated incessantly; each buzz a tiny hammer against her skull. The weight of expectations, the fear of revealing her imperfections, pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

She imagined her mother's knowing gaze, the subtle disappointment that always lurked beneath her pleasant smile. The thought sent a fresh jolt of distress through her. She should be happy, she knew. Instead, she felt like she was trapped in a gilded cage.