Gemotions

Liam slammed the test results back onto the counter, the paper slapping against the granite. His stomach twisted. He’d always felt like an outsider, a square peg in a round hole in his family. Now he knew. He'd never truly belonged. He found himself picking at the peeling paint on the kitchen wall, a mindless, destructive act.

He grabbed his car keys and drove, aimlessly, the radio a meaningless drone. The familiar roads, the buildings he’d known all his life, seemed to mock him. Each red light was another moment to dwell on the gaping chasm that had opened in his sense of self. He considered calling his mother, but the thought brought with it a wave of nausea. He pulled over to the side of the road, the car’s engine ticking, a metronome counting down the seconds of his now-fractured reality.