Gemotions

"Just be yourself, honey," her mother had said that morning, her voice bright, but her eyes held a shade of something deeper. Emily hated that she knew it was a lie, and that her mother knew she knew. The unspoken expectation of her parents pressed down on her chest like a heavy weight.

Her old bedroom, once her sanctuary, now felt like a gilded cage. The floral wallpaper, the stuffed animals on the bed, all felt like relics of a life she no longer recognized. Her palms were damp, and she kept tugging at the hem of her sweater.

Her parents offered too much help, too much attention. The gentle questions, the offers to cook meals, to do her laundry, seemed invasive, a reminder of her dependence.