Gemotions

He slammed the file back onto the doctor's desk. "This isn't *mine*," he snarled, the words tight and strangled. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. The doctor, a kind-faced woman he’d grown to trust, looked startled. He wanted to scream.

This wasn’t fair. He’d lived with the weight of the potential for years. His own records, the ones she should have been holding, carried the truth. The dark truth. Now, someone else, someone unknown, was free.

He imagined that person, bouncing back from a cold, playing sports, enjoying life without the shadow he carried. A burning resentment flared in his chest, a heat that made him want to lash out, to break something.