Gemotions

He hadn't slept in two nights. The missed calls, the evasive answers, the general air of secrecy surrounding Michael’s new job had been eating away at him. He found himself avoiding his friend's calls, terrified of confirming his suspicions, yet equally terrified of the unknown. He'd constructed elaborate scenarios in his head, each more outlandish than the last.

He stared at his reflection, a gaunt face staring back. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale. He felt a constant tremor in his hands. He replayed their last conversation, searching for clues, for a hint of the truth. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He stood up and began to pace, the floorboards groaning under his weight. He didn't know what to do. He felt trapped, consumed by the unknown. He went to open the door, but just stood there.