Gemotions

The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut wood, a nauseating perfume. His chest felt constricted, as if a vise were tightening around his ribs. He wanted to shout, to scream, to tear something apart.

He found his father, who was the one who had made the decision, and he tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. He wanted to say how betrayed he felt, but instead, he simply stood there, glaring. His father's gaze became a painful spotlight as his hands balled into fists.