Gemotions

The silence in the car was suffocating. Michael stared out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass, blurring the world into an indistinct watercolor. His father's attempt at conversation had fizzled out, met with monosyllabic responses and a stony silence. The air was thick with unspoken words, a tangible tension that stretched between them.

He replayed the coach's words in his mind, each syllable a fresh jab. He had failed, he was inadequate. He felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten. The weight of disappointment settled on him. He just wanted to disappear.

The drive was endless. The houses whizzing by seemed to taunt him with their happy families, the cheerful lights that seemed to highlight his own misery. He finally got home, and went straight to his room.