Gemotions

He saw the box the moment he walked into his childhood bedroom. It was nestled in the corner, beneath a stack of old magazines and forgotten board games. It was a massive cardboard edifice, adorned with a chaotic array of stickers and, in faded marker, his name: "Daniel's Stuff". His chest felt tight.

Daniel felt a sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to flee. He wanted to rip the room apart, to shred every last memory that it held. He crossed the room, his movements jerky, and kicked the box. It didn’t budge. He bent down and ripped the lid off, then started yanking out the contents: a science project, a crudely drawn map, a book report on *Moby Dick*.

He tossed everything onto the floor. He wanted to scream. Why? Why did she need to keep all of this? He started to stomp on the papers, then stopped abruptly, his shoulders slumping. He felt utterly and completely defeated.