Gemotions

He stared at his reflection, the face he barely recognised staring back. His hair was a mess. His eyes were bloodshot. He'd stopped shaving.

Every morning, he found himself avoiding the breakfast table, claiming he'd already eaten. He couldn't face the pitying glances, the carefully chosen words designed to avoid the elephant in the room.

He’d always been the golden boy. Now, he was a burden. He spent most days in his room, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how he could be better.

The feeling in his stomach was like a rock.