Gemotions

Liam slammed the door to his room, the sound echoing through the empty house. The darkness was a comfort, a blanket to hide beneath. *Mrs. Peterson started following you.* His science teacher. He threw himself onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling an oppressive pressure.

In class, he found himself doodling furiously in his notebook, the intricate patterns a desperate attempt to block out everything. Mrs. Peterson's voice, usually a soothing presence, grated on his nerves. He felt exposed, observed, as she explained the intricacies of photosynthesis. He couldn't wait for the bell to ring, a chance to escape her gaze.