Gemotions

Michael stared at the screen, the password he'd cracked now a permanent stain on his consciousness. He felt a deep unease, a hollowness in his chest. His son, Ethan, had crafted an online persona so different from the boy who sat across from him at dinner every night, the boy who talked about basketball and video games. This Ethan was angry, bitter even.

He’d almost slammed the laptop shut when he first saw the posts. Now he was still here, scrolling. His fingers felt thick, clumsy, as he clicked through the comments and private messages. He should have asked his son. He should have just talked to him.

He slammed the laptop shut. The loud snap echoed through the quiet house. He wanted to go tell his wife, but he was afraid of what she would say. He had to say something. He felt as though a great weight was on his shoulders.