Gemotions

The textbook felt heavy in Ethan’s hands, a physical manifestation of his unease. He’d gone to the library seeking refuge, but there it was, on page 147: *his* essay. The one about his grandfather. The one he’d written late at night, fueled by strong coffee and raw emotion. Now, it was a specimen, pinned and labeled for all to see.

He slowly lowered the book, the weight of it pressing down on him. The library, usually a haven, now felt like a glass box, and he was the exhibit. He saw the world from a strange vantage point, detached and surreal, as though he were watching a movie about his life. The air grew thick and difficult to breathe.