Gemotions

The sterile white of the hospital room felt suffocating. Liam sat beside his mother's bed, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, each breath a painful reminder of his own fragility. The air hung thick with the scent of antiseptic and unspoken anxieties. Sunlight, harsh and unforgiving, streamed through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, both by the confines of the room and the invisible chains of his own body.

His leg began to twitch, the familiar, unwelcome sensation. He winced, pulling his leg in and trying to control it. The door opened and another man, looking weary and defeated, walked in. The man started, eyeing Liam’s leg. Liam then saw the man’s leg, twitching in the same way.

“You…” the man started, his voice barely a whisper, “You have the same thing?”