Gemotions

The weight of the duvet pressed down on Michael. He considered staying in bed, as he had for the past several days. The silence of the house was punctuated only by his own shallow breaths. The world outside his window seemed distant, unreachable.

He finally sat up, the effort leaving him breathless. His reflection in the mirror offered a stranger's tired gaze. He hadn't shaved in days. He ran a hand through his tangled hair. There was a dull ache behind his eyes, a persistent thrum of… something he couldn't name.

His mother’s gentle knock startled him. "Honey, breakfast is ready," she called. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He was a burden. He pulled himself out of bed and into the hallway. The scent of bacon was supposed to be inviting, but it just made him feel… nothing.