Gemotions

Liam slammed the door of his dorm room so hard the pictures on the wall rattled. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive, like a physical barrier he couldn’t break through. His essay, his *private* essay, was being used as a training model, the very thing that made him feel proud of himself, reduced to a textbook example.

He kicked a crumpled soda can across the floor. This feeling – it was akin to being a marionette, his strings exposed for everyone to see. Each laugh, each slight, each comment sent him into a spiral of agitation.

His breath hitched. He hated this.

He grabbed his headphones, turned the volume up to maximum, and let the music attempt to drown out the noise in his head.