Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the invitation seemed to mock her from the kitchen counter. Sarah stared at it, her jaw clenched. She hated color, the world of the bright and cheerful. The thought of seeing everyone, of pretending to be okay, was too much.

She slammed the fridge door shut, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet apartment. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes, a testament to her weeks without energy to clean. She hated that she couldn’t muster the strength to do more, be more.

She imagined the conversations, the probing questions, the pitying glances. Her throat tightened. She wanted to scream, to lash out at the world, to disappear. She turned away from the invitation, her shoulders slumping.