Gemotions

He had to do this. He had to face it. The attic, a place he'd avoided since moving in, was now unavoidable. A knot tightened in Mark's stomach as he ascended the creaking stairs. He hated the feeling of being watched, the way the air seemed to thicken around him.

The first thing he saw was a collection of framed photographs leaning against the far wall. A family. Laughing, smiling, whole. A sharp pang of… discomfort, yes, that was it, shot through him.

He moved closer, each step deliberate, his breath shallow. The photos depicted a life he could never know, a happiness that felt impossibly distant. He noticed his hands were shaking and he had a sudden urge to turn around and flee. He wanted out.