Gemotions

The clatter of silverware and the murmur of conversation swirled around her, a constant, dizzying noise. She felt a growing sense of detachment, as though she were observing the party from a distance. The warmth of the room made her skin prickle. She took a sip of water, the cold liquid doing little to ease the dryness in her mouth.

"My parents," she began, her voice barely audible, "have always been… an example." The words sounded canned and insincere even to her own ears. A sudden wave of nausea washed over her. She gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white. She desperately needed to escape the suffocating presence of all these faces.