Gemotions

The weight of the unopened boxes sat like a physical burden in his rented room. He paced, the small space feeling smaller with each stride. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if he could unravel the tension that coursed through him.

His phone buzzed, a text from his mother, asking if he was comfortable. He stared at the message, a wave of guilt washing over him. Comfortable? He felt anything but. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to disappear.

He walked over to the window, the city lights blurring through the rain-streaked glass. The world outside felt so distant, so far away. He was trapped, and the walls were closing in.