Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, usually a comforting scent. Today, it felt cloying, suffocating. Across the counter, Hannah, her roommate, was arranging a miniature bunny hutch. "He'll be so happy here," she said, her voice filled with delight. I stood at the doorway, frozen.

I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of being pinned down, of being held fast. I felt a pressure building in my chest, making it difficult to breathe. The apartment, once a shared space, now felt like a prison, and I the unwilling inmate. I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat growing larger. I wanted to scream, but no sound would come.

I took a step back, needing to flee, needing to get out.