Gemotions

He had been staring at the ceiling, lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts, when the alert sounded. A friend request from Susan Riley. The name conjured images of sneering faces and whispered insults. He pushed himself up, the movement a slow, deliberate act.

His apartment felt suffocating, the walls closing in. He hadn't shaved in days, and his reflection in the mirror was a stranger, a caricature of who he used to be. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier than usual.

He needed something to make the pain stop, to quiet the internal voices. He felt trapped, a prisoner in his own mind, and the simple act of deleting the request felt inadequate, a drop of water in a vast, dry desert.