Gemotions

The award ceremony. The glittering lights, the polished speeches, the undeserved accolades. Michael, the “decorated war hero,” beamed at the camera. He’d lived through hell, and now he was getting a medal for it. It was a farce. And Michael, the *real* war hero, felt like he was suffocating.

He sat at the back of the auditorium, the pain in his chest intensifying with every word of praise. He felt lightheaded, his head swam. He watched as the man, the fake, accepted the award, his smile blinding. He felt a primal urge to shout, to expose the truth, but his voice was trapped, choked by anger.

He rose and slipped out the back door, needing to breathe, needing to escape.