Gemotions

The doorbell’s chime, a cheery melody, vibrated through him like a physical blow. He braced himself, knowing who it was. The world seemed to contract.

He was trapped.

His mother, her face radiant with a forced happiness, greeted the visitor. He heard the overly enthusiastic greetings, the forced laughter. He hated it. He hated the forced smiles. He hated the way everyone acted as if everything was okay. He slumped into the worn armchair, picking at the loose threads of the upholstery.

The tea, when it finally arrived, tasted like disappointment.