Gemotions

He hadn't left his apartment in three days. The air hung thick with stale cigarette smoke and the scent of unwashed clothes. The weight on his chest was crushing, making it hard to breathe. He stared at the ceiling, the patterns blurring into a meaningless maze.

He picked up his phone, scrolling through contacts, fingers hovering over names. Each call seemed impossible, each connection a bridge too far.

Then, a flyer slipped under his door. A mental health clinic, promising support. The therapist’s name, scrawled at the bottom, leaped out at him. "Dr. Emily Carter." The girl who had made his life miserable in elementary school.