Gemotions

He stared at the small, cluttered bedroom, once his sanctuary, now a suffocating prison. His heart hammered in his chest. A photograph of him as a teenager, wearing a goofy grin, hung above the bed. The weight of his past, his mistakes, pressed down on him, making it hard to take a breath. "Dinner will be ready soon, Michael!" His mother’s call echoed through the house.

He forced himself to unpack a box of clothes, his hands moving slowly. He could feel his father’s eyes on him. The judgment, the disappointment, the silent recriminations. Each item he pulled from the box intensified his feeling of discomfort, as if each piece was a reminder of all he had lost. He felt trapped.

He had to get out, he just didn't know how.