Gemotions

He’d found it through a Google search. Just typed his name, as people did, and there it was: "Michael’s Deepest Thoughts, Age 16." He felt a tightening in his chest, a sensation like a fist squeezing his heart. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck protesting with each swallow.

He slammed the door of his home office. The cheap wood paneling shook, the noise a release, a small victory against the tide of his feelings. The desk felt foreign beneath his hands, the smooth surface cold and unwelcome.

He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the mini-bar, poured a hefty measure and downed it in one gulp. The burning sensation did little to quell the fire in his gut. His teeth ground together. He wanted to break something, anything.