Gemotions

He stared at the school newsletter, his face growing redder with each passing second. Mr. Finch. The man who had wrongly accused him of cheating. The one whose harsh words still rang in his ears.

He crumpled the paper in his fist, the sound a sharp crack in the silent kitchen. His chest felt constricted, as if a weight was pressing down on it. He threw the ball of paper into the trash, the act a small, inadequate release of his emotions.

He walked over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, and chugged it down, as if the cold liquid could douse the fire rising within him. He sat down at the table, running a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips.