Gemotions

The old couch, with its worn cushions and familiar sag, felt alien beneath Chloe. She sat there, trying to relax, but her body felt taut, her muscles wound tight. She could feel the pressure building behind her eyes.

Her parents, usually relaxed, were on eggshells, tiptoeing around her, anticipating her needs and her moods, even before she realized them. Their constant concern, their offers of help, were suffocating. She felt a burning desire to scream and break free of the well-meaning constraints.

She finally stood, unable to bear it any longer, and paced to the window, watching the street outside, and wondering if she would ever feel settled again.