Gemotions

The familiar scent of the room – stale pizza and cheap cologne – was suddenly offensive. The open journal on the nightstand felt like a physical violation. He felt his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that mirrored the turmoil inside. His roommate, Ethan, was in the shower, the sound of the water a distant, irritating drone.

He wanted to run, to escape the suffocating confines of the room. But something held him rooted to the spot. He picked up the journal, his hands trembling. The pages felt soiled, tainted. He flipped through the familiar words, each one a fresh wave of disgust.

He dropped the journal onto the floor and kicked at it.