Gemotions

The bookstore felt smaller than she remembered. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the glossy cover of the book. Her essay, the one she’d poured her soul into, stared back at her. The words felt alien now, no longer hers. A tightness constricted her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous habit that did little to ease the tension.

She moved through her life carefully, like a character in someone else's story. The job, the relationship, the plans for the future were all perfectly laid out. Expected. Necessary. Each step felt like walking a tightrope. One misstep, one deviation, and everything would shatter.

She wanted to scream, to lash out. The desire clawed at her, a physical itch she couldn't scratch. She glanced at the door, her heart quickening. Escape was impossible. She was a picture in a frame.