(not so) creative writing

Slowly, she starts to eat. She tastes nothing but bitterness as she forces her food downwards, fighting the waves of anger that ripple upwards from her solar plexus. The food threatens to choke her as she struggles to swallow, her throat constricted, crying out in rage. It sits in her stomach like a brick. She feels nauseaus, dizzy, afraid. It is not just the food, but the swallowed emotions that seem to brew within her, bubbling up as if they might errupt.