Gemotions

The world felt muted. Colors seemed dull, sounds distant. He wandered through the house like a ghost, his presence barely registering. His father's boisterous laughter in the living room grated on his nerves; he longed for silence, for the world to stop.

He spent hours on the porch, staring at the swaying trees, the endless sky. He barely noticed the breeze, the changing light. Everything was a blur, a dull ache that followed him everywhere. He picked at his fingernails, a nervous habit that left him feeling even more undone.

He heard his name called for dinner, and slowly, very slowly, made his way inside. He sat in silence, picking at the food on his plate. Nothing tasted like anything.