Gemotions

The air in the basement was stale and cold, mimicking the chill that had settled in David's bones. He’d come down here seeking answers about his mother, about why she was so distant, so…difficult. He never expected this. A stack of boxes, each carefully labeled, containing every single piece of homework, every test, every scribbled note from his entire childhood.

He pulled out a math quiz. The red markings of corrections, the circling of mistakes, the careful comments, each one a silent judgment, a reminder of his perceived inadequacies. His chest tightened. He had to clench his fists.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shatter the peace of the basement and destroy everything she had preserved. Instead, he just stood there, a cold knot forming in his stomach.