Gemotions

The incessant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway was driving him mad. He felt a twitch in his eye. Every corner of this house whispered with a sense of…wrongness. The way his father breathed. The way his mother smiled.

He sat at the kitchen table, staring at the perfectly placed placemats. He couldn’t bear the forced pleasantries, the endless attempts at small talk. He wanted to scream, to shatter the delicate facade of normalcy.

He pushed back his chair, the scraping sound echoing in the overly quiet room. He needed to be alone, to escape the suffocating presence of this house. He headed up to his old room.